The Shrew War, Book I: A Fire in the Night Sky
by Highwing
Summary: The first winter at Redwall after the Badger War.
1. Prologue

PROLOGUE

Extract from the diary of Winokur Otter, apprentice Recorder of Redwall Abbey:

_It didn't start with the shrews._

_Or maybe it did, and nobeast was paying attention. There was so much going on those days, all the far-away battles and the tragedies closer to home, who could have foreseen it would all come together the way it did? History can unfold in ways that no creature can predict, not even Urthblood. He was there at the end, of course, but I think he may have been as surprised as anybeast at the way things turned out._

_So here we stand, on the threshold of another autumn. As I look back over the events of the previous winter, spring and summer, I can scarcely believe the changes that have been wrought upon the familiar confines of our friendly Mossflower Woods and the surrounding country, changes that are still very much ongoing. These are tumultuous times indeed, unlike any of which Brother Geoff is aware from his studies of the Abbey records. Where it will all end? Who can say?_

_It will soon be time for yet another Nameday. Abbot Arlyn has asked me to help him come up with an appropriate name for this season, but quite frankly I am at a loss. It is an intimidating task, to be sure, knowing that the name we settle upon is the one which will be entered into the histories, and that all Redwall's future generations will call it by that title. No obvious idea has occurred to me as of yet, and I think if I concentrate on it too hard it will never come. Things like this are best left lying on the edges of the mind, to blossom in their own good time like the flowers of spring._

_So much has happened, but those events now belong to seasons past. What we need is a name that will define this season now upon us, a name owing not to what has already occurred but to what is going on about us now and what may yet be, a name to inspire hope and gladden the heart if at all possible. In spite of our losses, we still have so much for which to be thankful. Namedays should be festive and happy times, and we will all do our best to make this one conform to that ideal. Vanessa will surely enjoy herself, of that there is little doubt!_

_And this is where I am these days - balanced on the edge between what has passed and what is to come. I look around to see things are pretty much the same as they have always been, at least on the surface. Friar Hugh and his kitchen staff still produce the tastiest fare ever to pass a beast's lips and delight the tongue, Balla's cellars supply a never-ending stream of ales and cordials and spirits, Geoff and I hold our lessons for the Abbey children, Cyril and Cyrus still perform their bellringing duties, the otters swim in the pond on warm days and the squirrels patrol the forest and Colonel Clewiston's Long Patrol hares play their part in Redwall's social life and defenses as well. Many new faces have been added to our community these past couple of seasons, but each wayward soul and refugee has found its place here, from the youngest orphan bursting with energy to the most world-weary adult. I shall never grow tired of watching newcomers catching their first glimpse of our grand Abbey, how their eyes grow wide and their jaws fall slack ... and that's before they even get a taste of our food and drink! Most creatures in the lands never dream they might live in so fine a place, and witnessing their reactions always reminds me of how fortunate we all are to be Redwallers._

_And yet, beneath all the surface normalcy to which we have more or less returned, the upheavals of the recent past have left scars which may never fully heal. I cannot help but feel that the great crisis of which Urthblood speaks so often may finally have broken upon us, in spite of the calm that we enjoy this moment. That badger's latest actions do fill us with misgivings, but then, Urthblood was always good at spreading disquiet. As one thing resolves, it seems, so another unravels, casting us into further doubt and confusion._

_I cannot say what the future may hold. I only know that things will never be the same again._


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The night sky to the northeast of Redwall was ablaze with light.

No fewer than a dozen of the Abbey leaders stood upon the ramparts, shivering in the cold winter air as they gazed toward the rosy-orange glow that suffused the horizon above the dark treetops of Mossflower. Mouse, squirrel, hare, otter and badger stood side-by-side along the walltop, their white puffs of breath billowing out over the battlement stone.

"A forest fire, d' you think?" Colonel Clewiston wondered aloud.

"That's what I thought, sir," Mizagelle said. The young hare and her sister Givadon had been sharing walltop sentry duty this night when they became the first to see the overcast winter sky come alight. "At first, Givvy 'n' I thought it was th' bally sunrise comin', but then we realized it was still hours too early ... that, an' the glow's too far to th' north to've been the dawn."

"That's when we decided we'd best alert you," Givadon added.

"And good that y' did, m' gels. This could be serious." Clewiston looked to the two mice standing alongside him. "Abbot, Abbess, we hares of the Long Patrol are still new to this region. We know th' coastlands, not th' forest. Is this like anything anybeast here's seen before?"

Abbess Vanessa shook her head. "I certainly haven't seen its like before. Arlyn?"

The venerable retired Abbot of Redwall repeated her own gesture. "Never in all my long seasons. What about you, Maura? You were Redwall's badger-Mother-in-training when I was still in swaddling cloth."

"It's a new sight to me, Abbot. I don't think anybeast alive has ever seen such a thing in Mossflower Woods. Perhaps the one to ask would be our Abbey historian."

Brother Geoff, the Recorder mouse in question, stood farther down the walltop walkway, blowing on his cupped paws and stamping his sandals against the stone underfoot. When he realized the conversation had fallen silent and everybeast was gazing at him expectantly, he stammered, "Oh, um ... no, no, I can't recall ever reading anything in the histories about a fire consuming any large part of Mossflower. There have been small ones, certainly, but they've always either burned themselves out or been put out by the creatures of Mossflower before the flames had a chance to spread too far."

"Last autumn was a bit on the dry side," Maura remarked, "but hardly anything that would turn these woods into a tinderbox. There are still patches of snow on the ground from our last snowfall."

"Aye, that's true," confirmed Alexander, the chief of Redwall's squirrel Mossflower Patrol. "We've been all through the nearer woods in recent days, and all the trees seem in good shape. We haven't seen anything to suggest conditions were right for a forest fire to break out."

Another silence settled over the assembled woodlanders. The night was perfectly still and quiet under the blanket of cloud that reflected the burning glow off its underbelly to the northeast. It was as if the world lay frozen around them.

"Well, if it's not a forest fire," Colonel Clewiston said at last, breaking the silence, "then wot th' bally blazes IS it?"

"I don't think we've ruled out a fire just yet," Abbess Vanessa said. "And if that's what it is, we'd best find out as soon as possible. Any blaze that could light up the sky like that could be a danger to Redwall itself ... even with all the trees we cut down last summer. That will hardly provide an adequate fire break if a raging inferno comes roaring through here."

"Shall I send out a patrol to scout out th' situation, ma'am?" the Colonel asked.

"It's a dark and moonless night, even with that glow in the distance," Alexander said to Clewiston. "Do your hares know their way through Mossflower well enough to make good time under such lightless conditions? 'Cos I know I sure wouldn't want to take my squirrels on a swing through the treetops on a night like this ... and we know these woods like our own tails."

"We won't go runnin' inta any bally trees, if that's wot you mean," the hare commander answered somewhat snootily.

"I believe Alex is merely suggesting that we wait until daybreak to send anybeast out," Arlyn said. "Dawn is only a few hours away. The question is, can we afford to wait that long, if it really is a fire?"

"I think we can," replied Alexander. The squirrel pointed toward the heart of the ghostly glow. "Look at the way the light is showing off the clouds. Whatever's causing it, it's not anywhere close to the Abbey. My guess is it might even be on the other side of the River Moss."

"Well, your eyesight is sharper than any of ours," Vanessa admitted. "But, if we're going to wait until the morning, then it would make more sense to just have Highwing send out some of the Sparra to investigate this. They could be there and back by the noontide, while it might take a ground creature - even a hare - a day each way."

"Capital idea, ma'am," Clewiston agreed. "Those feathery fellas can gobble up distances like no other creatures can. An' if wotever's causin' that fire in th' sky really is across th' bally river, wouldn't do much good sendin' us hares out, no matter how fast we make it through th' woods. Hares ain't made fer swimmin' in strong currents, that's otter work."

"True, matey, true," seconded Montybank, Redwall's otter Skipper. "An' us waterdogs couldn't pound our way through th' woods to the River Moss near as fast as you hares c'n. We'd need a beastie who c'n run like a hare and swim like an otter."

"Or race through the trees like a squirrel, and then swim like an otter," Alex suggested. "But even if such creatures existed, they still couldn't make as good time as our Sparra friends."

"Mebbe." Monty stroked his heavy whiskers. "Tho', it occurs t' me, that log barge we built last fall when we reopened the quarry fer th' stone t' line our hares' tunnel quarters oughtta still be moored on th' west bank. Unless some nastybeast went an' pilfered it. T'would be of mighty use, if'n it turns out any of us do hafta make an excursion 'cross th' river."

"Good thinking, Monty," said Alex. "With all the Guosim shrews staying here at Redwall for the winter, I doubt there are any waterfaring beasts abroad in the thick of winter who'd be likely to steal our raft."

"Not all the Guosim are here at Redwall," Brother Geoff reminded his squirrel friend. "That troublemaker Snoga's got over a hundred of his shrew followers out in Mossflower with him ... and by all accounts, they're just the kind of hooligans who would steal our barge. They'd probably even do it just to cause us bother, even if they didn't have any use for it themselves."

"And Snoga's shrews might not be the only waterbeasts about either, Alex," Vanessa said. "Remember, the searat king Tratton now has underwater ships of steel that can infiltrate far inland from the sea along the larger rivers. They too might find our barge useful."

"You don't suppose," ventured Geoff, "that that glow might be something Tratton's doing?"

"Doubt it," Monty replied. "Ever since we got word last summer about them infernal underwater vessels, me 'n' me crew have spread th' news far 'n' wide to be on th' lookout fer 'em. You c'n wager every otter holt in Mossflower's trawlin' their local waterways to make shore none of them seavermin come pollutin' our fair rivers."

"Monty's right," agreed Clewiston. "Now that Tratton's slipped up, he'll think twice 'bout stickin' his ugly snout into our neck o' th' woods again. Naw, my bally acorns're on Urthblood. Wouldn't be surprised if he's gone an' set th' whole bloomin' forest on fire. Be a neat way t' smoke us all out of Redwall, and he could deny he ever started th' blaze, or say it was an accident."

"I thought you suspected Urthblood of being in league with Tratton?" Vanessa countered.

"Yah, an' then there is that possibility," the Colonel nodded.

A female voice sounded from behind them. "Oh, don't pay any attention to him, Abbess - as you see, he can't even make up his own mind on the matter."

The hare commander glanced over his shoulder at the Gawtrybe squirrel Lady. "You keep to your views, ma'am, an' we'll keep to ours."

Lady Mina came forward and put her paw around Alexander; the two of them snuggled tightly against each other to share their warmth. "Abbess, Lord Urthblood was a guest of your Abbey not half a season ago, and he expressed nothing but a desire to strengthen ties with you and make himself a friend of Redwall. Please do not give any credence to these hare-brained hares, whose suspicions have been plainly disproven time and again."

Vanessa waved a paw toward the glowing horizon. "You have served alongside Lord Urthblood during most of his Northland campaigns, Lady Mina. Perhaps you can, ah, shed some light on this matter for us. Do tell, have you ever witnessed or heard of any activities of Lord Urthblood's which might account for such a display as this?"

"No, I have not, Abbess."

"So you do not think Urthblood is behind this?"

"I did not say that, Abbess. Lord Urthblood often thinks in very large terms. We know he was in the area earlier this season, and he did hint that he might not be returning directly to Salamandastron. I suspect that illumination might be the result of some project he has initiated. Indeed, I can imagine no other creature whose activities could so light up the night sky. I simply do not know what these particular activities might be."

"Hmm. It's a pity sparrows can't fly at night, otherwise I'd be very tempted to have Cyril and Cyrus ring the bells to summon Highwing right now. Oh well, I suppose we'll just have to wait until morning. This mystery will solve itself in its own time."

"That it will." Mina nuzzled her head against Alexander's shoulder. "Come back to bed, Alex. It's cold up here."

Several of the other Redwallers looked askance at the two squirrels, with glances that were not at all approving.

"Mina's right, it is cold tonight," Vanessa said quickly. "Arlyn, you must get back indoors, before you catch a chill. That shawl is hardly adequate protection against the winter night for a mouse of your seasons. Maura, why don't you escort our dear Abbot back down to his gatehouse and get a hearty blaze going in his fireplace to warm him up again?"

"Of course, Vanessa. And I'll sit with him, since I could use a little warming up myself. Goodness knows, I won't be getting any sleep for the rest of this night, not knowing what it is out there that's turning the night into day."

"Reckon we're all in agreement wi' you 'bout that, Maura marm," Monty agreed.

"Come along, Arlyn." Maura laid a giant motherly paw around the old Abbot's shoulders as she led him toward the stone stairs.

"I'm right behind you," Geoff said, still blowing on his paws and stamping his feet so rigorously that his habit was flapping around his legs. "I always did hate the cold!"

As the others bid their goodnights and made their way down from the ramparts, Vanessa called out to her old squirrel friend, "Alex. A moment, if you please."

Lady Mina caught the hint in Vanessa's tone that she wanted to speak with Alexander alone. "I'll see you back inside, Alex."

They watched the Gawtrybe Lady as she descended the wallsteps. "You're deeply in love with her, aren't you?" Vanessa asked.

"Very deeply," Alex answered. "But I didn't think I needed to tell you that ... "

Vanessa sighed. "Love is all well and good, and I am very happy for you. But sharing a bed, and living as married beasts - that is quite another matter."

"You have a problem with this?"

"Yes. Yes, Alex, quite frankly I do. And I think Maura and Geoff and some of the others have an even bigger problem with it. This is Redwall. There are things that are done here ... and things that are not."

"I guess this would be the wrong time to say it's just our way of keeping warm at night without having to put up with all that shrew snoring down in Cavern Hole?"

"This is not a matter for joking, Alex."

"Vanessa, you've known me since we were children together! You know I'll do the right thing, and make an honest Lady of Mina."

"So why haven't you?"

"Um ... we're not ready yet."

"Then you're not ready to share sleeping quarters."

"Nessa, Mina is royalty. She's used to getting what she wants ... and this is what she wants."

"Then maybe it's time for me to remind you - and Lady Mina - that we have rules here. Those rules are few, and they are simple, but I expect every Redwaller and guest of Redwall to follow them. This is an Abbey, after all. And even if you yourself are not a brother of the order, you must adhere to our ways. Don't forget, there are children living here as well. We must behave appropriately for them, not just for ourselves. What would happen if Mina became with child?"

"Then I'd marry her ... as I plan to do eventually anyway."

"Seems to me you're cutting your timber before you planted your saplings." Vanessa sighed again. "You're the head of the Forest Patrol, Alex, and one of our Abbey leaders. I'm not about to banish you from Redwall over this. But I think you and Mina need to start seeing a little less of each other ... particularly after the sun goes down. At least until you're properly wed."

"If it's that big a problem, why don't you just declare us married and be done with it? You're the Abbess. You could do that, you know."

"I was under the impression that you would want your marriage to be a joyous and festive occasion, one you'd want to share with all your friends here. Was I wrong in this?"

Alex shrugged. "No ... no, I suppose not. It's just that ... well, Mina and I were made for each other. We both feel that way. And it feels so natural for us to be together, we never stop to think whether we're doing something that we shouldn't be doing. It's not like we're scheming youngbeasts, sneaking off to the wine cellars or the bell tower for a few minutes when nobeast's looking ... "

"No, you're just behaving that way. You're an adult, Alex, and one of Redwall's chief defenders. You have to set an example for everybeast else, just as I do. What am I supposed to do if all our would-be young lovers just start taking up with each other, without regard to the rules of Redwall? What other rules of ours shall we throw out just because they're inconvenient to some of us?" Vanessa shook her head. "Well, tonight I'm putting my foot down, Alex. I am setting the first day of spring as your wedding date. If either you or Mina has any great problem with this, let me know; otherwise I will assume that this meets with both your approval. Perhaps we can celebrate Nameday and your wedding at the same time. Until then, Mina will return to the guest dormitory we assigned her when she arrived with Urthblood earlier this winter. Or, she is welcome to sleep in Cavern Hole with most of the rest of us. But this will be your last night in the same bed until season's end."

"And if Mina and I refuse to go along with this?"

"Then you will very quickly discover how good Maura can be at coming to you at, um, inopportune times in the middle of the night with matters that simply cannot wait until the morning."

"You wouldn't!"

"Oh no?" The truth is, I've barely been able to hold her back from doing just that. If I let Maura loose on you, you and Mina would find it very hard indeed to get a full night's rest. And while we're on the subject, I should also mention that Arlyn has been having some trouble sleeping lately, and often wanders the halls at night. If he should be passing by your room and happen to hear noises coming from within, I'm sure he'll think nothing of inviting himself in for a lengthy reminisce about all the good old days ... "

"Okay, okay!" Alex threw up his paws in defeat. "Separate beds for us until springtime - I get the picture! You do realize, this is going to make me look forward to this change of seasons more than any other in my life?"

"If you and Mina would like to tie the knot before then ... "

"We might just at that." Alexander started toward the wallsteps. "Let me run it by her."

"By all means," Vanessa said, her tone growing friendlier and less authoritarian. "And enjoy your last winter night together."

00000000000

"Master Cyril! Master Cyrus! Wake up!"

The young mouse brothers stirred sleepily in their beds, snuggled under their heavy covers. Redwall's sibling bellringers were at an age - Cyril in particular - when the advantages of their shared private bedchamber outweighed the warm coziness of Cavern Hole, where over half the Abbey's winter population huddled together to ride out the cold nights in close companionship. Adolescence was an awkward time for anybeast, and personal space was important for creatures balanced on the threshold between childhood and maturity.

The downside to this was the lack of fireplaces in most of the dormitory rooms, and the undeniable draftiness of the Abbey's upper floors. Which was hardly a concern during the warmer seasons, and all well and good as long as a youngbeast could hide beneath multiple layers of blankets when winter was at its worst. But it made getting up on such mornings a real challenge.

"Cyril! Cyrus! The Abbess needs you to ring th' bells! You gotta get up now!"

"Hmw? Wha ... " Cyril levered himself up on one elbow, blinking at the unwelcome intruder as the cold air fought its way through his flannel nightshirt. "Smallert?" Cyril glanced toward the window, and saw that the sky was still dark. "It's not even dawn yet. Why does the Abbess need the bells rung so early?"

The one-eared weasel swept his paw over his head in an exaggerated manner. "The northeast sky's all lit up like a false dawn in th' wrong place. Has been since sometime past midnight, or so's I heard. Never seen aught like it, I ain't!"

This piqued their interest. Cyrus sat up as well, yawning and pawing the sleep from his half-opened eyes. "What? The sky's all lit up?"

"Aye," Smallert nodded. "Downright uncanny. Don't know if'n it's a forest fire, or wot. Abbess wants t' send out some Sparra soon as day breaks, t' find out wot it's all about. It'll soon be dawn, so she wants you two to summon the sparrow leader just as soon as y' can."

"Oh. Okay." Cyril gathered himself for the supreme effort of greeting the predawn chill, then flung aside his blankets and swung his legs over the side of his bed, careful to let only his pawtips come into contact with the stone floor. He started to slip out of his nightshirt, then thought better of it. Sticking his footpaws into his sandals, he stood, grabbed his green habit off its peg on the garment rack, and pulled it on right over his nightshirt.

Cyrus burrowed out from under his own covers, sluggishly and reluctantly, and followed Cyril's example, putting on his habit robes over his pajama top. The younger mouse brother had also taken to wearing heavy tartan pawsocks to bed to keep his feet warm. He made for the door now, still wearing his socks, his sandals ignored on the floor behind him.

"Um, Cy," Cyril said, "aren't you gonna put your sandals on?"

"Naw. These're cozier."

"But, they look ridiculous!"

"Who cares? You can hardly see 'em under my habit anyway. Besides, they make for great sliding on the floors - 'specially in Great Hall!"

Cyril merely shook his head at this practical obstinance and disregard for Abbey protocol. "Brother," he muttered.

Smallert set a supportive paw on Cyrus's shoulder as they passed out into the hallway. "Well, I happen t' think they look just fine, Master Cyrus. Why, if'n I had a pair o' pawsocks half so fine as those, I'd wear 'em with pride!"

"Fine," Cyril grumbled, "I'll tell Sister Gretchen to knit up a pair for you, Smallsey."

"Oh, wouldja? That'd be spankin'!"

Farther down the hall, the trio ran into Broggen, Smallert's stoat roommate. Being an ermine stoat, Broggen still wore his winter coat of white fur, with a prominent black tailtip; that finery of nature was now partly covered by a simple long-sleeved tunic and the tipped-to-one-side beret that seemed like it was permanently attached to his head, for all the times the other Redwallers had seen him without it. Smallert and Broggen were both former soldiers in the badger Urthblood's army, and were the only two weasel-type creatures currently living at Redwall ... which was two more than usually called the Abbey home.

And that was the least of the changes Urthblood had brought to Redwall and surrounding Mossflower country.

Broggen greeted them with a wide grin and a jaunty nod. "Mornin' to ye, me good mice!"

"What, is the whole Abbey up before dawn today?" Cyril wondered.

"T'was our turn t' help out Friar Hugh in th' kitchens this morn," Broggen explained, "so we woulda hadta been up by now anyways. Besides, once this oafish weasel was up 'n' about, blunderin' all over th' place, I couldn'ta kept sleepin' even if I wanted to!"

"Yah, well, th' way you was snorin', Broggs, I'm surprised I was able t' catch a wink last night t'all!"

"Me, snore? You obviously ain't never heard yerself sawin' th ole wood ... "

"Course not. How'm I s'posed to hear m'self over th' racket you make ev'ry night?"

With the stoat and weasel laughing and jibing at each other, the foursome descended the stairs to the ground floor. "Ooo, nice socks, Cy," Broggen commented upon catching a glimpse of the tartan material peeking out from beneath the hem of Cyrus's habit.

"Yeah, ain't they?" Smallert agreed.

Nobeast was waiting to greet them in Great Hall; indeed, the above-ground portion of the Abbey seemed all but deserted, as it often did in winter. But the murmur of many voices and commotion of movement drifting up the steps from Cavern Hole gave lie to any notion that Redwall might have been abandoned.

"Guess they're waitin' fer us down there," Smallert said, stating the obvious.

At the top of the steps, they almost collided with a lone hare coming up from Cavern Hole. The gaunt creature regarded the quartet with hollow, haunted eyes and mouth set in a grim, unsmiling line.

"Hey, mornin', Hanchett." Smallert raised a friendly paw. "Got sentry duty, I see?"

The hare gave a barely-perceptible bob of his head, which might as easily have been an involuntary muscle spasm as a conscious nod, and continued past them without a word on his way outside.

Both young mouse brothers gave a shudder. "That Hanchett gives me the creeps," said Cyrus.

"Yeah," Cyril added, "like he's dead inside."

"Mayhaps he is - partways, anyway," Broggen said. "I died a little bit inside m'self when my partner Jans got slayed in battle, right in front o' me. I coulda gone that way, too, turnin' all grim an' sullen, but thank th' fates I had friends like you two t' help me realize I could be happy agin."

"Hanchett has friends too," Cyril argued. "All the Long Patrol that are living here at Redwall now. But that doesn't seem to have made a difference for him."

"Well, that hare blames 'imself fer his Lord Urthfist's death in th' battle 'gainst Lord Urthblood at Salamanderston," Smallert said, mispronouncing - as he did so often - the name of the coastland mountain stronghold of the Badger Lords. "An' that's a heavy burden t' bear. I spent enuff time chained to 'im last summer, when we were both prisoners, to see fer m'self that he's a decent 'n' honorable sort, right to 'is very heart. He gave me th' benefit of th' doubt, which was more'n I deserved from anybeast after I nearly slew you, Master Cyrus, accident tho' that was. I know he might seem kinda frightful these days, but there's no doubt in this weasel's mind that he's a goodbeast who'd do th' right thing if push comes t' shove."

"Yeah, I guess," Cyril grudgingly admitted. "But he did kill Jans at Salamandastron. Don't you bear any malice toward Hanchett for that, Broggen?"

"Oh, no, Cyril," the stoat explained. "We were all soldiers, doin' our soldierly duty in th' heat o' battle. Hanchett slew Jans, an' woulda slew me if he'd got th' chance, just as I woulda slew him. But that war's over with, an' we're both Redwallers now. Jans was my best friend in th' world, true. But lotsa beasts lost friends that day, includin' all those hares. Bein' friends fer each other now's th' best thing we can do fer each other."

Cyril shrugged. "I don't know if I could ever be that forgiving, if somebeast killed my best friend. That'd be like me making friends with the creature who killed Cyrus."

An awkward silence settled momentarily over the group. Of course Smallert had very nearly slain Cyrus the summer before, and now he was the best of friends with the two mice.

"Uh, what I meant, was - "

"Oh, come on!" Cyrus burst out, breaking the dour mood as he tugged on Smallert's jerkin to urge them down toward Cavern Hole. "Let's stop being such a bunch of wet blankets, huh? Breakfast's waitin' for us ... and then we've got some bells to ring!"


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

It was not at all unusual - indeed, it was most typical - for the grounds of Redwall Abbey to lie empty and deserted during most of each winter. With the grounds frozen hard, the trees bare, the gardens withered and dead, the pond chilled to an icy crust across its surface, and the days often overcast and dreary, there was little reason for the Abbeybeasts and their seasonal visitors to venture forth from the warm, sheltered confines of Cavern Hole, the always-bustling kitchens, the cellars and tunnels, and cozy dormitory beds.

But this was anything but a typical winter's morning at Redwall. News of the mysterious light in the night sky had spread throughout the Abbey's population long before the sun made its first appearance, and in the hours before dawn many of the other Abbeydwellers made pilgrimages up to the walltop to observe this strange spectacle for themselves.

The unexplained glow faded to invisibility against the brightening of the new day, but that did little to reduce the traffic on the Abbey grounds and the ramparts. For now the bells had been tolled, Highwing had been summoned, and a small party of sparrows headed by the Sparra leader himself had departed from their attic roofspace home of Warbeak Loft to investigate the enigma. Nobeast knew for sure whether it would take an hour or a day for the winged scouts to report back, but it was a given that nobeast wanted to miss their return.

The weather cooperated beautifully for such an outdoor vigil. The low cloud cover, against whose underside the nighttime glow had been reflected, was quickly dissipated by the rising sun, and before long Redwall basked under the golden sunshine of an unseasonably mild day. The night's winter chill was chased away, and by the time breakfast was finished, it felt almost like a spring morning outside.

Alexander and Lady Mina didn't make their appearance until after the morning meal. Sleeping so late was not in character for Redwall's squirrel chief, particularly when such unusual events were in the air. The two of them were met with many knowing gazes - and one or two barely-disguised scowls - as they grabbed a quick bite from the kitchens and then made their way to the east walltop.

"Good morning, Alex. Lady Mina," the Abbess greeted them with a nod. "I was beginning to wonder whether we'd see you at all today."

"Well, we had to take full advantage of our last night together this winter," Mina said, without the slightest hint of embarrassment or self-consciousness. "At least Alex informed me that such would be the case ... at your urging, Abbess."

"Do you have a problem with this, M' Lady?" Vanessa asked.

"On the contrary, Abbess. It was never my intention to so flagrantly flout the rules of Redwall. In the Northlands, I was unaccustomed to having anybeast tell me how I must behave, and observed only the laws that my brother Marinus and I set for the Gawtrybe. I am afraid I forgot my place here, and I thank you for reminding me of it. You should have mentioned it before now."

"I was counting on Alex to show a little more ... discretion. It was up to him to conduct his romantic pursuits within our guidelines, and to make sure you were aware of them too. You couldn't be expected to know our ways as well as he does, My Lady."

Alexander shuffled one footpaw and studiously avoided Vanessa's gaze. Skipper Montybank and Alexander's top lieutenant Elmwood, lounging against the battlements a few paces away, traded a smirk between them while trying very hard to pretend they weren't overhearing the conversation.

"You could always get married right away, if you wish," Vanessa continued. "My choice of the first day of spring was merely a suggestion. If you would like to set an earlier date ... "

"No need to rush things, Abbess," Mina said.

Elmwood snorted and muttered under his breath, "Huh! Rushin' things is about all those two've been doing this entire season - "

"Excuse me, Elmwood, were you saying something?"

"Um, no, Abbess ... " the squirrel lieutenant stammered. Montybank snickered.

"As I was saying, Abbess," Mina went on, "a springtime wedding is fine by me. It's only half a season away. Alex and I have enough fond memories to last us until then. I'll be more than happy to return to the bedroom you gave me. Or, who knows, you might just be seeing me down in Cavern Hole some of these nights ... "

"You'd be more than welcome. As long as you don't mind sharing your sleeping space with an army of snoring shrews."

"The Guosim aren't half as bad as Monty and his otters," Alex said, eager to guide the discussion away from romantic matters. He hadn't really supposed Mina would bring up the subject to the Abbess, and talk about it so nonchalantly in front of others. It was sometimes easy to forget that she and her brother ruled more than a thousand Gawtrybe in the Northlands, and Mina was used to doing whatever suited her without having to justify herself to anybeast else. "Um, what's the word on the Sparra, Nessa?"

"No word at all, yet. Highwing took two of his younger loftmates with him to scout out the woods up to the banks of the River Moss, and beyond if need be. They took off shortly before sunrise. No telling when they might return."

"Well, we certainly have a nice day to await their arrival," said Mina, gazing up at the clear blue sky.

"Yes, we are all quite curious to hear what they'll have to say," Vanessa nodded. "But also remember that the Sparra are our fellow Redwallers, even if they do keep to themselves up in Warbeak Loft most of the time. And the thought that they might be venturing into danger of any kind does make us uneasy. We shall not think of things as back to normal until they are safely returned, and they carry with them no news of great trouble."

"Hmm. I wonder what news they will have for us," Mina wondered.

"That's what we're all up here waiting to find out," said Vanessa.

00000000000

"Didja see it, Mista Lorr?"

"Indeed I did, young Droge, yes, indeed I did, yes."

Lorr, the eccentric bankvole tinkerer and inventor, stood on the walltop along with the shrew leader Log-a-Log and several of the Abbey children. It was halfway toward noon, and there had yet to be a sign of the Sparra scouts. This unanticipated wait only fed the speculation that was running rife amongst the woodlanders. And the Abbey youngsters were hardly immune to it.

"Aw, I wish I coulda seen it," the precocious hedgehog Droge complained. "Grownups never wake us youngbeasts up when sumpthin' good's goin' on at night! Whatta cheat!"

"Wasn't much t' see, my spikey li'l friend," Log-a-Log shrugged. "Just an orangy kinda glow in the sky 'bove the trees, sorta like th' way it rosies up at daybreak, only not really ... "

The shrew chieftain's son Pirkko stood right by Droge; during this past winter, when the wandering Guosim shrews settled at Redwall to ride out the harsh weather, Droge and Pirkko had become inseparable companions. "Wotcha reckern it was, Dad?"

"That's wot we're a-waitin' t' find out, Pirkko lad."

"Yeah, but whaddya think it was?"

"I bet it was a fire-breathin' monitor dragon lizard!" Droge burst out enthusiastically. "Settin' all th' woods afire with its fire breath - rawwgh!" Droge raised his forepaws and curled them like talons, trying to do his best impersonation of a fearsome mythological beast.

"Naw," Pirkko countered, "I say it's a volcano, just like that Salamonsterwhotzits mountain by th' sea! I think it erupted in th' night, spewin' out lava all over Mossflower, burnin' beasts t' their bones 'fore they could get outta th' way ... "

"Pirkko!" Log-a-Log admonished his progeny. "Where'd y' go fillin' yer skull wi' such grisly notions?"

"Brother Geoff told us all 'bout volcanoes in class," Pirkko replied, "when he was teachin' us th' history of Salamantiswan ... "

The shrew father shook his head ruefully. "Sometimes, I think there's such a thing as too much learnin'."

"Oh, no no no!" Lorr exploded, regarding Log-a-Log as if the shrew had grown a second head. "No, no, not at all! What a terrible thing to say, my good Log, terrible, yes! Why, knowledge is what distinguishes civilized beasts from the savages. Why, without the knowledge of architecture, all these fine Redwallers would have no Abbey in which to live! Without the knowledge of garment-making, we'd have no clothes to wear! Without the knowledge of cooking, we'd all be eating nuts and berries right off the vines and trees! Without - "

"Okay, okay!" Log-a-Log cut off the vole's staccato argument. "You made yer point! But how d'you account fer all th' rubbish these young 'uns have got stuck 'tween their ears?"

"Oh, harmless, perfectly harmless! Young minds just need to stretch their imaginations, yes, yes they do. Can't expect a youngbeast to learn all there is to know all at once, now can we? I had quite an imagination myself when I was that age, oh yes indeed, I did!"

"I can imagine," Log-a-Log muttered.

"So, whadda YOU think it was, Mr. Lorr, sir?" Pirkko asked.

"Do you really want to know, my little lad?"

"Tell us!" Droge demanded.

"Well then ... " Lorr squatted to look the two youngsters in the eye, although in truth he didn't stand that much taller than they did. With his ever-present, knee-length overcoat, its many pockets bulging with all manner of bizarre paraphernalia and knicknacks, and his accentuated peculiarities of speech, the tinker bankvole had become nearly as much a favorite with Redwall's children as Smallert and Broggen were.

"Now, Droge," he began, "there are indeed such things as monitor lizards, yes there are, and some of them can grow nearly as large as a badger, which is quite large indeed. But none of them breathe fire, so I think we can safely discount that theory, yes we can, yes. And Pirkko, yes, there are such things as volcanoes, yes there are, and Salamandastron was indeed one in ages long, long ago, probably before beasts even learned to talk, and you can imagine how long that must be, yes, I'm sure you can. But volcanoes are big mountains, and there aren't any places like that in Mossflower that we know about, no there aren't. And if lava were erupting from someplace new that it never came out of before, it most likely would have had to tear its way through the land from below, and we would have heard and felt such a cataclysm, that I think we can safely say, yes, I think we can, yes."

"So, what is it?" Droge and Pirkko demanded as one.

"Well, my eyesight isn't as good as our squirrel friends', no, not by a long sight, but they assured me that the glow looked to them to be coming from someplace quite far from the Abbey, yes they did. At least a day's march, maybe two, and probably on the other side of the River Moss. So, for us to have been able to see it so clearly, and for it to have covered such a wide arc of the horizon, it must have been quite, quite large. Of course, the low clouds could have been scattering the light, we mustn't forget about atmospheric conditions and factors, no we mustn't, but still, I'd say an area at least the size of Redwall and its grounds would have to have been all lit up to produce the illumination I saw last night. Maybe much larger, if it's farther away than we think."

"Yes, but what IS it?" the two youngbeasts repeated.

"I ... um ... I don't know."

Pirkko threw up his paws. "Lorr's th' smartest beast at Redwall. If HE doesn't know, then nobeast does!"

"He's not smarter than my Auntie Balla," Droge objected.

"Yeah, maybe not at makin' ale 'n' cordial," Pirkko said, "but Mr. Lorr built us a bridge that nobeast else in th' whole world coulda figgered out. He's a genius ... "

Lorr beamed abashedly at this adulation as he stood once more. As the two youngbeasts embarked on a full-fledged debate over who the smartest creatures at Redwall were, Log-a-Log said to Lorr, "Y' reckon it could be a forest fire? Can't fathom what else it could be."

"If you'd asked me last night, and you did, come to think of it, didn't you, then I would have said yes, indubitably, yes. But by daylight, it's quite a different picture, yes, quite."

"Why d' you say that?"

Lorr pointed to the horizon. "Where there's smoke, there's fire, or so they say, and one would assume that the inverse - namely, that where there's fire, there's smoke - would also pertain. A fire of the size to produce the effect we saw last night, no matter how far away, would be sending up a considerable quantity of smoke, certainly enough to be clearly seen from where we are. I can see no trace of a plume, therefore, logic would eliminate the possibility of a forest fire."

"Ah. Ye're right, o' course. Knew there was a reason we kept ya 'round, you ol' loon." Log-a-Log flashed a grin.

"Oh, why thank you. I think. Ah, um, I also imagine that we'd have seen woodlanders from that part of Mossflower fleeing our way by now, if it had been a fire. And a simple forest fire - not that any such thing is simple, I mean to say, perhaps straightforward would be a better word - a straightforward forest fire would not likely have kept the Sparra scouts occupied this long. I rather think they would have seen it was a fire and then flown directly back here to alert us to that fact, yes, I do think that's what they would have done. Some unforeseen circumstances must have waylaid them, yes, they must have."

"Huh? You don't suppose them searats an' their underwater ships have got anything t' do with this, do ya?"

Lorr pursed his lips. "Not unless they brought a lot of lamps with them."

00000000000

"All I'm sayin' is, why can't I get a nice green habit fer m'self?"

"'Cos weasels don't wear habits, mate," Broggen told Smallert, as they lounged against the walltop battlements with Cyril and Cyrus, awaiting the Sparras' return. "Habits are just fer mice, Smallsey. Or hadn't y' noticed that?"

"Not true, Broggs," the weasel begged to differ. "That young otter fella Wink wears a habit, an' it looks quite fine on 'im ... "

"Well, yeah, that's true 'nuff. I'd fergot 'bout that waterdog ... "

"Winokur's in training as Brother Geoff's apprentice Recorder," Cyril felt obliged to explain. "And besides, the Abbess made him an official novice of the Redwall order last summer so he could travel with Lord Urthblood to Salamandastron as the Abbey's envoy. Not too many otters become Brothers or Sisters here at Redwall. Some say Wink could become Abbot one day."

"And only novices wear green habits," Cyrus added. "When you become a Brother or Sister, you change to a brown one."

"Then why's the Abbess wear a green one?" Broggen asked. "Wot, is she still a novice Abbess 'cos the Abbot's still alive?"

"No, Arlyn's retired," Cyril explained. "Vanessa's fully Abbess. The story I always heard was that she was still a novice when she became Infirmary Keeper, and she just never stopped wearing the green because she liked the color. It used to confuse me too."

"An wot about that Bird King?" Smallert inquired. "He gets t' wear that liddle green cape thingy. If a bird can wear sumpthin' like that, I don't see why I can't get some green robes. I mean, I am a Redwaller now, or so ev'rybeast keeps tellin' me."

"Just 'cos ye're a Redwaller, doesn't mean y' get a robe," Broggen said. "You don't see any of th' moles or 'hogs or squirrels 'round here wearin' 'em, even though they're all Redwallers. None o' the otters neither, 'ceptin' fer Wink. An' th' hares all still wear their Long Patrol tunics, even tho' the Abbess has made 'em official Abbeybeasts." The stoat ran his gaze up and down his weasel companion. "'Sides, wotcha wanna a habit so badly fer anyways? Y' look just fine in yer jerkin, an' it still wouldn't hide yer missin' ear, unless you went about wi' yer hood up all th' time."

"I jus' think it'd look good on me, is all."

"Well, maybe you could ask the Abbess to make you a novice too," Cyrus suggested. "You'd hafta come to classes, and learn all your Abbey history ... "

"Naw," the weasel shook his head, "t'weren't never no good wi' book learnin' an' stuff like that. I'm all muscle an' no brains."

"Aw, don't say that, Smallert. You're - "

"Hey!" Broggen interrupted, pointing over the wall to the northeast. "Here come our birds back!"

"Well, it's about time!" Smallert declared. "Must be near lunchtime!"

"Yeah, mebbe they stopped off t' fill their beaks wi' worms 'n' bugs," Broggen speculated. "Not very thoughtful of 'em, if they did, knowin' we're all here waitin' on 'em ... "

"We don't know that's what they did," Cyril said in the sparrow scouts' defense. "They're coming in over there where the Abbess is sitting. Come on, let's go hear what they have to say!"


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Cyril, Cyrus, Smallert and Broggen were among the many Redwallers who shared similar ideas, and by the time Highwing fluttered down for a landing on the battlements, over a score of Abbeybeasts crowded around Vanessa and the other Abbey leaders on either side of the walkway. Maura and Montybank had to hold the curious onlookers back so that Vanessa and Arlyn weren't mobbed.

"Well, Highwing," the Abbess greeted her sparrow friend without preamble, "what did you find?"

"Urthblood has reopened the quarry," the Sparra leader reported.

"Hold a sec," Monty said from over Vanessa's shoulder. "WE reopened th' quarry, last fall, when we carved out th' sandstone we needed t' line th' Long Patrol's tunnels ... "

"I can only say that our measly efforts of last autumn were a decidedly minor affair compared to the operation Urthblood has going on there now," said Highwing. "There must be over a hundred of his Northland moles there, and many other creatures besides."

"And the light we saw last night?" Vanessa inquired.

"Apparently, work has been going on there for most of this season, but it was all underground, where the stone is being mined. But now they've moved part of the operation topside, and since they labor in shifts straight through both day and night, they needed to illuminate their work area. What we saw was the light from several hundred torches, lamps and lanterns."

"Why so many?" Arlyn asked.

"Perhaps I have not sufficiently explained the scope of this endeavor. They are mining from numerous shafts and openings. The lights were all extinguished by the time we arrived, needless to say, but it appeared that nearly the entire quarry pit must have been lit up."

Vanessa nodded. "And with the light reflecting off the red sandstone all around ... and the low clouds we had last night ... Lord Urthblood certainly picked a good night to light up the quarry, if he wanted to get a rise out of us. Did he say what he's mining all this stone for?"

"That badger was not there," said Highwing. "Apparently he departed several days ago, satisfied that he had set things up well enough so that they would run smoothly in his absence. The general consensus was that Urthblood was returning to Salamandastron, although nobeast seemed to know his plans with absolute certainty. I was met by Andrus the Sword, who has been appointed to replace Machus as the chief of Urthblood's swordfoxes."

"I know Andrus," Lady Mina said from where she stood with Alexander and Colonel Clewiston on the outer fringe of the Abbey leaders. "He is a wise and capable beast. Lord Urthblood could not have made a better choice."

"Ah, Lady," Highwing craned his neck toward the Gawtrybe squirrel. "Didn't Lord Urthblood keep his fox brigade to a score?"

"He did," Mina replied, "but only eleven survived the battle at Salamandastron."

"Well, I counted at least thirty. All armed with broadswords, and all wearing the same black uniforms."

Alex raised an eyebrow at his betrothed. "Sounds like Lord Urthblood is rebuilding his fox brigade, and then some."

"Yes," she nodded slowly, "he'd long expressed an intention in expanding his fox force, even before Salamandastron, provided he could find enough promising candidates. But I did not think he would proceed so quickly - especially after the losses we suffered in last summer's battle."

Abbess Vanessa looked to Mina. "And I gather, M'Lady, that you are similarly in the dark about what Lord Urthblood intends with his mining activities at our quarry?"

Mina shrugged. "Perhaps it has something to do with these stairs up to Warbeak Loft that I've heard you mention from time to time. It would be in keeping with Lord Urthblood to help out Redwall with a project that he himself, after all, proposed."

Highwing shook his head. "I do not think so, M'Lady. The scale of this endeavor is staggering. Andrus did show me through many of the tunnels and caverns they're mining, and I would swear they've already cut and shaped enough stone to build another Redwall! I could scarcely believe it, but then, I suppose a hundred moles working nonstop for half a season can accomplish wonders."

"Another Redwall?" Vanessa gasped. "Highwing, are you sure?"

"Hard to mistake it, Abbess. The quantity of rock they're excavating is massive."

"Perhaps it's for both our stairs to Warbeak Loft, and those Sparra way stations between here and Salamandastron that he proposed," Abbot Arlyn suggested.

"Not unless he intends to build a score strung across the Western Plains," Highwing said, "and to make each one much larger than your own gatehouse cottage."

"Well, what did that fox Andrus tell you it was for?" Vanessa asked the Sparra in growing exasperation.

"He didn't," answered Highwing. "And he was most adept at avoiding the question, even though I posed it several times. I did see some plans and schematics laying about, but I was always steered away before I could get a good look at them. I gather the plans have been broken up and distributed to different digging teams so that more stone can be mined more rapidly. But some of the stone blocks I saw had been shaped into very distinctive and precise forms. Whatever Urthblood is building, I believe it has already been designed and worked out in exacting detail."

Montybank idly tapped his javelin against the side of his jaw. "Mebbe it's some manner o' fortress t' guard 'gainst them new searat vessels. Th' quarry ain't too far from th' River Moss - lots closer'n we are, anyways. Could be they're just gonna build right there, overlookin' th' waterway."

Vanessa asked Highwing, "Did you notice whether there were any rafts or boats along the bank there, or any sign of activity between the quarry and the river?"

"Just our own barge, that we used for our own quarrying last fall. It's still moored along the west shore, right where we left it. If they plan to ferry their cut stone across to our side of the river, it must be on boats that haven't arrived yet, or that they intend to build."

"You say there were lotsa other creatures there b'sides those bally moles," Colonel Clewiston spoke up. "Wot kind o' creatures?"

"Mostly otters and weasel-types. Maybe a rat or three, I can't be sure. Didn't see any mice or shrews. Then of course there were all those foxes, but they seemed more to be walking around overseeing things rather than actually working at shifting and moving the excavated stone."

"Typical," Clewiston snorted to himself.

"That takes some nerve," Geoff said, "coming to our quarry like that and refusing to tell us what he's doing there!"

"As I understand it," Mina said stiffly, "that quarry does not belong to Redwall, or to anybeast else. It is there to be worked by anybeast who cares to expend the effort."

"He still should have notified us, at the very least!" the Recorder mouse insisted.

"Yes," Vanessa agreed, "that would have been the courteous thing to do, particularly for a beast who seeks Redwall as an ally. And to keep their purpose a secret, even now that we know of their activities and have asked them forthright ... once again, it seems Urthblood is going to do what Urthblood will do."

"P'raps," Monty pondered, "that fox would be more inclined t' answer the questions from a proper delegation o' Redwallers than from a solit'ry sparrow."

"Maybe." Vanessa eyed Mina. "Especially if that delegation were to include the queen of Lord Urthblood's Gawtrybe allies. I should think you would be as put out about this as anybeast, M'Lady. Urthblood didn't exactly take you into his confidence on this matter."

"If Lord Urthblood saw fit not to inform me of his work at the quarry, he must have had his reasons. Tratton could very well have spies abroad in Mossflower. There is no need to advertise our activities anymore than necessary."

"Yeah," Clewiston gave a mirthless chortle, "last night's light show was jolly subtle, wot?"

"I think Monty's right," Vanessa said. "Urthblood - and his foxes - owe us an explanation for opening such a major project practically on our doorstep. We have every right to know what it is he's planning to build. Mina, if I send a party to the quarry for this purpose, will you agree to accompany them?"

"I ... suppose so, Abbess."

"Good. It's too late in the day to do anything about this today. It's about half a day's march from Redwall to the river, and you wouldn't want to be getting there after nightfall. Urthblood's moles and foxes aren't going anywhere, by the sound of it. I'll decide tonight who to send, and they can leave after breakfast tomorrow."

Alex glanced skyward. "I hope we get another day like today. I for one hate travelling on dreary winter days."

00000000000

Colonel Clewiston wasn't content to wait until that evening for the Abbess to decide who would join the expedition to the quarry. While the rest of the Abbeybeasts went about their business that afternoon, strolling across the lawns or along the walltop to take advantage of the unseasonably warm winter day or retreating back to the cramped camaraderie of Cavern Hole, the hares of the Long Patrol convened in the common room of their underground tunnel complex.

When Redwall's moles had first designed and dug the hares' living quarters the previous autumn, they'd planned on making them nothing more than a series of individual bedchambers, enough to house the twoscore Long Patrol who'd survived the battle of Salamandastron and now called the Abbey home. After all, every other need the hares might have would be met by existing parts of Redwall: the kitchens for preparing food, Great Hall for taking meals, Cavern Hole for meetings, the Infirmary for treating the sick and injured, the ramparts for keeping sentry duty, the grounds for drilling ... and all of Mossflower and the Western Plains for runs and hikes. But the Colonel had been adamant that their private tunnel warren also include a large central chamber where all the Long Patrol could congregate to discuss uniquely hare-ish matters.

They were the only species at Redwall to be granted their own such gathering space, and at first the Abbess had been reluctant to permit the common room, concerned that it might keep the hares from fully melding into Redwall's community of creatures. In the end, however, the Colonel had won the day with his steadfast stubbornness, and the meeting chamber had been included in the hares' dwelling space. After what they had been through at Salamandastron, Vanessa decided they were entitled to a few extra concessions ... especially since they would be dedicating the remainder of their seasons to helping defend the Abbey from any enemy who might threaten their new home and family.

And now, Colonel Clewiston had determined that such an enemy had reared its head.

"Right, we all here?" the hare commander began from his spot at the front of the room; everybeast either stood or sat on their haunches on the floor, since there was not room enough in the chamber to fit all forty hares and tables or chairs besides.

"All but Hanchett and Broyall, sir," reported Lieutenant Gallatin. "They're up on walltop lookout duty."

"We can fill those two in later," Clewiston nodded. "Broyall's too old t' send on a mission like this, an' Hanchett, well, he's a good egg and all, but that lad hasn't been himself since Salamandastron, an' I don't see sendin' him into a situation where he's as like to start trouble as finish it."

"That's true," said Patrol Leader Melanie. "I love Hanch like my own son, but these days I think if you put a fox in front of him, he'd split it from chin to belly an' ask questions later."

"Smack on th' dab, Mel m'gel," Clewiston agreed. "We wanna find out wot these swordswingin' brushtails are up to, not provoke a war with 'em. Leastways, not unless war's wot they've got in mind - then we'll give 'em th' full measure of Long Patrol blood 'n' vinegar, an' send 'em runnin' back to th' Northlands with their scraggly tails 'tween their mangy legs. But we all knew Urthblood would try t' fasten his greedy claws on Mossflower sooner or later. This might not be th' way we expected him to do it, but then you can always jolly well count on His Bloodiness to do the unexpected. From wot Highwing reported this morning, his mole chaps're minin' enough stone t' make a bally mountain, an' I severely doubt it's for our benefit."

"You think he's building a fortress of his own?" asked Field Marshal Traveller, the veteran officer scout who shared command of the Long Patrol with Clewiston.

"That's exactly wot I think, Traveller ol' bean. A fortress, here in this part o' Mossflower, that Urthblood can oversee and stock up with his vermin an' misguided woodlanders. A fortress to stand in direct bloomin' opposition to Redwall. An' if Urthblood really is in cahoots with Tratton, mebbe he's buildin' it as a reception hall for his Searat King pal. A nice li'l fortress, right on th' bank of th' River Moss, where Tratton can come an' go as he pleases in those underwater boats of his."

"Or he could just let Tratton have Salamandastron, an' set himself up here in Mossflower," Traveller speculated. "Be squeezin' us from both sides."

"Both sides is right, whether he's workin' with Tratton or not," said Clewiston. "I'm not exactly thrilled by the news that Urthblood's bolsterin' his fox brigade. Thirty of those blighters he's got now! That's half again as many as we faced at Salamandastron. An' even if the new recruits are only half as skilled as the original bunch, that's still enough to cause us a pawful o' trouble. Just like that sneakin', schemin' badger to set up his base of operations right across th' blinkin' river - close as he could get to Redwall without us bein' likely to stumble upon him on our own. An' if he builds his bloody fortress on the other side of th' river too, won't be any easy way fer us to keep a proper eye on it. He'll be close 'nuff t' threaten Redwall directly, build up wotever forces there he wants, an' we'll hardly be able t' lift a bally paw t' stop him. That's sand in my sandwich an' gravel in my garters, that's wot it is!"

"Well, if it's any consolation," Gallatin said, "it takes seasons and seasons t' construct any kind of proper fortress. So, we've got some time to think on wot to do."

"I'm not takin' anything for granted where Urthblood's concerned. For all we know he could be settin' up shop right there in th' bally quarry itself, diggin' out quarters for his vermin hordes like ... well, like the Abbess had dug out for us here." Clewiston slapped the sandstone-and-mortar lining of the chamber wall behind him. "An' if he's had his Northland moles workin' day 'n' night nonstop all winter, he's in a jolly hurry t' get finished with wotever he's got planned. If those moles're workin' off precise renderings an' shapin' the blocks to fit as they go along, Urthblood could slap 'em all together an' have himself his fortress quicker'n anybeast might suppose."

"So wot's to be done?" Traveller asked.

"The Abbess has got us off on th' right bally foot t' start," the Colonel said. "We've got to send a party of Redwallers there, pronto, an' demand t' know wot's wot. An' see it for ourselves, too, not just take some shifty fox's word on it. Wot the Abbess may not realize is that when our expedition sets out tomorrow, there'll be at least two Long Patrol with 'em. An' if those foxes reckon they can hoodwink us with deception an' slight-o'-paw, they're in for a rude awakenin'. We'll camp out right in th' middle of their flippin' mine, an' stay there th' rest of this winter an' on into spring, if that's wot it takes to get a straight answer out of 'em!"

The Colonel's contagious determination was met with enthusiastic shouts and pawstamps.

"Hear hear!"

"You show 'em, sah!"

"That's th' stuff!"

"Nobeast messes with th' Long Patrol!"

Clewiston held up his paws to restore order. "Okay, okay, settle down, hares! Now, how we'll proceed will depend on wot we find when we get to the quarry tomorrow. I've got some ideas on that score, an' I'll be bangin' noggins with Traveller an' Lieutenant Gallatin in th' days ahead t' hammer out a workable plan of action. Might even get Redwall's otters 'n' squirrels in on this, since they can cover th' forest an' watercourses like we can't. Our dear Abbess might not have her eyes all th' way open as to wot kind of danger Urthblood is, but I wager I can get some of our more common sensical woodlander friends to see things our way."

"That might be fine for them waterdogs," opined Sergeant Peppertail, "but Redwall's squirrel chief's in bed with Urthblood's Gawtrybe spy from th' north ... "

"Not anymore, I heard," Givadon snickered. "Abbess gave him a dressin' down 'bout that this morn, separate beds 'til they're married!"

"Aye," Clewiston confirmed, "but that marriage is on for the first o' spring, an' I suspect Alex 'n' Lady Mina will be doin' their share of cozying up to each other 'tween now 'n' then. She's got him wrapped 'round her pinkie paw, no denyin' it. But I've worked closely with Alex since we relocated here, an' he's got a good head on his shoulders in most respects. I'd trust him with my bally life, if it came right down to it."

Sergeant Traughber snorted. "That makes one of us. He's th' beast who put a shaft through Major Safford's skull, an' drew another half dozen of us away from th' main battle at Salamandastron. That fight might've gone quite differently, if it hadn't been for him."

"Lotsa tragic things happened that terrible day," Clewiston lamented. "But we're Redwallers now, an' Alexander's part of our adoptive family. We hafta trust him an' get along with him, just like we do with that stoat an' weasel who used t' be in Urthblood's service. Now, mebbe he is a tad too close to Mina for our comfort, but I very much doubt he'd do anything to betray Redwall."

"Mebbe not knowingly," said Peppertail. "But who knows wot he might share with that Gawtrybe that'll make its way back to Urthblood?"

"Yah," Traughber seconded, "loose lips an' all that ... "

"Well, unless Lady Mina's been havin' secret midnight meetings with Urthblood's bird spies up on th' blinkin' ramparts, we have no evidence she's even been in communication with His Bloodiness most of this winter," Clewiston pointed out. "And she did seem genuinely surprised as anybeast by the news of Urthblood opening the quarry ... "

"Oh, sure," Melanie remarked, "she couldn't possibly have been pretendin'. Urthblood's minions would never mislead goodbeasts with deception ... just ask Browder."

"Right, right!" the Colonel quickly cut in over the outbreak of disgruntled mutterings elicited by the mention of the agent provocateur hare who'd lured them out of Salamandastron the previous summer. "Gettin' a bit off topic here, wot? That's another discusssion for another day. Right now we hafta decide which of us are goin' to that quarry tomorrow. Any volunteers?"

Thirty-eight paws went up, including the Colonel's own. "Ah. Ah, well, then, no jolly shortage o' willing bodies, wot?"

"This might take awhile, Clewy," Traveller observed.

"Yes, I say. All th' bally way to suppertime. Um, don't suppose anybeast's got some spare scones or pasties on 'em, wot?"


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

For the second night in a row, the sky to the northeast of Redwall glowed like false dawn.

The Abbess had announced during dinner that she'd decided to send Alex, Lady Mina and Montybank to the quarry. Alex, as chief of the Forest Patrol, knew the lay of Mossflower between the Abbey and the River Moss better than anybeast, and Monty could help if they encountered any difficulties in crossing the river. And Vanessa wanted Mina along because, as a high-ranking ally of Urthblood's, she might have the authority to demand answers that would otherwise be denied to the Redwallers.

Colonel Clewiston was less than thrilled by the announcement of Mina's inclusion, but hid his distaste as he informed Vanessa that Traveller and Melanie would also be joining the party. Lady Mina and the Abbess were both too tactful to come right out and suggest that perhaps the Colonel did not trust anybeasts but his own Long Patrol to do the job properly, and Vanessa readily agreed to make the expedition a fivesome to include the two hares.

With the roster thus established, everybeast settled down for another snug winter's night ... but not before many of them took another brief turn up on the walltop to gaze upon the spectacle created by Urthblood's nighttime quarrying activities.

00000000000

The clear overnight cooled the woodlands back to a deep winter chill, banishing the tantalizing foretaste of springtime the Abbeybeasts had enjoyed the previous day. Frost coated every windowpane, and creatures who slept in the upper dormitories awoke able to see their breath in front of their snouts. The day dawned with towering banks of dense gray cloud rolling back in over Mossflower, promising a gloomy morning that would be anything but springlike. Cavern Hole was packed almost shoulder-to-shoulder as Redwallers streamed into it from every other part of the Abbey to warm their chilled paws, ears and tails and eat their breakfast in cramped but cozy comfort.

Some of the late stragglers were still taking their morning meal as the five quarry scouts assembled by the east wallgate. Friar Hugh and his kitchen staff had labored the night before to put together supply packs for the journeyers, stocked with nuts, cheeses, biscuits and dried fruits. Alex and Mina carried canteens of sipping water, while Melanie and Traveller had outfitted themselves with larger waterskins. Montybank topped them all with a small cask of blackberry fizz, strapped to his back above the bundled tent blanket which would be large enough to cover them all if they got caught in a snow storm - a possibility that seemed likely by the look of the lowering sky. All five were well-armed, Alex and Mina with their bows, arrows and daggers, the hares with javelins and slings, and Monty with his own traditional double-pointed otter javelin. It had not been deemed necessary to bring down the sword of Martin the Warrior for this excursion, and so that esteemed weapon of Redwall's founder remained in its display brackets upon the wall of Great Hall.

Abbess Vanessa, Abbot Arlyn, Brother Geoff and Mother Maura were there to see them off, along with Colonel Clewiston. The badger and three mice concentrated their farewells on Alex and Monty, while the Long Patrol commander stood slightly off to one side with his two hares.

"You know wot t' look for, right?"

"That we do, Clewy," Traveller nodded. "Weapons stocks, routes of approach, telltales that they might be hidin' more beasts there than they're lettin' on, or carvin' out quarters fer a whole army ... any sign that they might be gearin' up for an attack on Redwall."

"Not t' worry, Colonel - we'll keep those rotters honest," Melanie assured her superior. "As honest as foxes can be, at any rate."

Traveller clapped the female patrol leader on the shoulder. "Mel here's got no small amount o' scoutin' expertise under her belt - could be she'll catch details that these ol' peepers of mine might miss. 'Tween th' two of us, they won't be able t' slip anything by us."

A few paces away, Vanessa and Alexander traded somewhat different words of encouragement. "You should reach the River Moss by noontime," the Abbess said, "not that you'll be able to tell when it's noontide through these clouds. Assuming our raft is still where it was yesterday, you should be able to cross immediately, and hopefully be at the quarry by early afternoon."

The squirrel chief glanced apprehensively up at the cloud cover to which Vanessa had alluded. "Yeah, if the weather cooperates. I hope we don't get snowed under before we've gone very far."

"Balla didn't feel a storm in her spikes last night," Vanessa laughed, referring to Redwall's resident hedgehog cellarkeeper who could often prognosticate the weather in her spines, "so I doubt you'll hit a blizzard. If snow does start to fall, see if you can at least make it to the quarry. I'm sure Urthblood's foxes would have no problem with putting you up there until the weather turns."

"I'm sure they'd agree to that," Mina said with confidence. "In fact, I'll insist on it."

"One of the reasons I wanted you with Alex and Monty," said Vanessa. "They would dare not deny assistance to the High Lady of the Gawtrybe."

"I doubt it would be an issue, even without my presence, Abbess. Lord Urthblood's forces have a long history of cooperation with woodlanders, and he does seek Redwall as an ally. I anticipate Andrus will extend a warm welcome to any Redwaller who visits him."

"We seek more than a warm welcome," Vanessa reminded Mina. "Andrus gave Highwing such a warm welcome yesterday that he was too busy being pleasant to answer any of our Sparra leader's questions. Hopefully that pattern will not repeat itself."

"It won't Abbess," Mina promised. "I'll make sure of it."

Alex hefted his food sack. "I'm glad Friar Hugh was able to throw these together for us. There's mighty slim foraging in Mossflower during the winter, and if we do get stuck somewhere, we'll need every candied acorn and apple crisp in these sacks to get us through."

"Yes, well, I'm sure - "

Vanessa was interrupted by a shout from the walltop directly above the east gate. "Abbess!" the squirrel Elmwood yelled down from the ramparts. "We've got two beasts approachin' from the forest!"

"What kind?" Vanessa called back. "Can you see?"

"Um ... looks like they're a couple of Urthblood's swordfoxes, ma'am. I mean, they're definitely foxes, and their uniforms and swords look right ... "

"Well, hail them, Elmwood, and see if you get their attention."

"Don't think that'll be necessary, Abbess. They're making straight for the Abbey. But they are veering wide a bit - looks like they intend to go around to the main west gate. Shall I redirect them to this one?"

"Please do." Vanessa looked to Alex, Mina and Monty. "Perhaps the answers we seek are coming to us instead ... "

Shortly, the two foxes were outside the east wallgate, called there by Elmwood. Monty swung open the gate and ushered the black-clad swordsbeasts into the Abbey. They stopped before the assemblage of Redwallers and Long Patrol, and the older of the pair gave a respectful half-bow. "Abbot, Abbess ... Lady Mina."

"Greetings to you, Tolar," the Gawtrybe squirrel responded. "I don't believe I know your companion ... "

Tolar indicated the younger fox. "Roxroy, one of the new cadets down from the north. This is his first time in Mossflower. And at Redwall, of course."

It was obvious from the younger beast's wide eyes as he took in the towering main Abbey and the spacious grounds before him that Roxroy had never beheld or perhaps even imagined such a place.

"Welcome to Redwall," Vanessa greeted the two swordfoxes officially. "What brings you to our fair Abbey?"

"We had a winged visitor yesterday morning," Tolar said, "and my chieftain Andrus felt he departed with many of his questions unanswered. We wish to redress any shortcomings to our hospitality that may have been perceived."

Clewiston stepped forward. "Yah. Shortcomin's a good way o' puttin' it. When an honest creature can't get an honest answer to some simple questions, leaves something to be desired, wot?"

Tolar nodded at the Colonel, his manner still courteous, almost subservient. "My apologies, and my master's too, to you all if we gave the appearance of discourtesy. But we have been so deeply immersed in our endeavor, and we were not expecting visitors ... "

Vanessa pounced. "And just what is that endeavor?"

"That is what I have come to explain, Abbess. If we may impose upon your good graces, could we please continue this indoors? Roxroy and I have been travelling throughout most of the night, and our footpaws are frozen from the snow that still lies over most of Mossflower. We didn't bring boots down from the north because we'd always heard the climate in this region was more amenable, but it seems winters are cold everywhere."

"Of course. Let me show you down to Cavern Hole, where you can warm yourselves and perhaps enjoy some hot broth. I'll have a fire started in my private study, where we may discuss these matters without distractions."

"Thank you, Abbess." Tolar and Roxroy followed the Abbey leaders toward the shelter promised by the grand red sandstone edifice. The hares brought up the rear at a discreet distance.

"Guess our bally stroll's off for today, Colonel, wot?" Melanie muttered.

"For today, Mel." Clewiston scrutinized the foxes before him with a mercilessly appraising eye. "For today."

00000000000

Vanessa's study was not particularly large, so the representatives for that morning's meeting there were chosen with care. In the end, it was decided that only Vanessa, Arlyn, Clewiston and Mina would be on paw to hear about and question Urthblood's activities at the quarry. This foursome adequately represented Redwall, the Long Patrol and the Gawtrybe.

Of the two swordfoxes, only Tolar was invited to meet with the Abbey leaders in Vanessa's private chamber. The cadet Roxroy remained down in Cavern Hole, where Maura, Monty and Alex would attend to his needs ... and attend to them most closely. And if they should happen to draw Roxroy out into conversation and just so happen to put him enough at ease that the younger fox might reveal something about their purpose that Tolar neglected to mention, well, they were only being friendly.

Brother Jerome had set a hearty blaze in the small fireplace in Vanessa's study, and now the flames danced and crackled invitingly, warming the room to a comfortable coziness. Softly cushioned chairs were provided for all present, with the Abbess taking her usual place behind her desk and the other four seated in a semicircle across from her.

"Now that you've had a chance to warm yourself and sample some of our food and drink," Vanessa began, "let us get to the matter at paw. Our Sparra leader Highwing informs us that a vast quantity of sandstone is being cut and shaped at the quarry. What is it for?" She made no attempt to blunt the directness of her question.

"Well, Abbess, I could tell you ... or I could show you."

The others regarded the black-clad fox with curiosity. "Show us?" the Abbess queried.

Tolar carried a neat black satchel at his side, and had not parted with it since his arrival. It was slimmer than the healer's bag his kind often bore, more like an ornate folder for carrying documents and dispatches. Tolar snapped it open now, dipping into it with a paw and producing a folded parchment sheet. The swordfox unfolded it like a large map and laid it on the desk before Vanessa. "Abbess, goodbeasts, I present to you ... Foxguard!"

"Foxguard?" Colonel Clewiston echoed, pronouncing the word as if it were unpleasant to the tongue.

Vanessa studied the sheet before her, while Arlyn and Lady Mina half-rose from their seats, leaning forward for a better look. The parchment covered the entire desktop, and displayed finely-rendered drawings of astounding detail. It was clearly the structural plan for a building of some sort, viewed from several different angles.

Vanessa looked up at Tolar. "Foxguard, you called this?"

He nodded. "Lord Urthblood's name for it. He is in the process of expanding his swordfox brigade, and intends to assign us to permanent duty here in Mossflower, so that we may help Redwall keep order and peace in these forestlands. And to fulfill this mission, he thought it only proper to provide us with a stronghold of our own, from which we can send out our patrols and which will withstand a siege, much as this Abbey can. These are Lord Urthblood's architectural designs for Foxguard. Our new Sword, Andrus, thought that the best way to explain this to you would be to let you see these plans for yourselves. So, here they are."

"And why didn't Lord Urthblood inform us of this himself when he was here earlier this season?" Vanessa demanded to know. "He surely had it in mind at that time, since he must have proceeded straight to the quarry after he left Redwall, and opened operations there almost immediately. If he planned to build a fortress for you foxes here in Mossflower, he had a duty to consult us on the matter."

Tolar shrugged helplessly. "I cannot speak for what Lord Urthblood's obligations to Redwall might be, since I am new to this region. And I do not know what reasons he may have had for withholding this from you. But he left us no orders to do likewise, and Andrus is very insistent that there be no secrets between us. Thus, here I am."

"Just one thing, chappie," Clewiston said to the swordfox. "We don't need your help keepin' order in Mossflower. We got th' jolly Long Patrol, the squirrels of th' Forest Patrol, an' those top flight fliers who dropped in on you yesterday. So you can just jolly well pack up yer bags an' yer tents an' these plans too an' twitch yer brushy tails along th' road back north, 'cos we don't need you here."

Tolar smiled at the Abbess. "I see your Long Patrol lodgers have not lived at Redwall long enough yet to have learned the finer points of Abbey hospitality."

"Perhaps the Colonel is merely voicing what the rest of us are thinking, but are too polite to say aloud," Vanessa told Tolar.

"Then I shall have to work extra hard to address your concerns. This is not my first time at Redwall, and on my previous visit I was afforded a degree of hospitality that goodbeasts seldom extend my species. I will always be grateful for that kindness, Abbess, and if I raised an eyebrow at the Colonel's brusqueness just now, it was only because I have not come to expect such here at Redwall."

"That was before these fine folk saw that your bloody master was just usin' their grand Abbey as bait t' lure Lord Urthfist out of Salamandastron," Clewiston said. "Things're different here now, an' we're not so easily duped as before, wot?"

"We were not a part of Lord Urthblood's strategic planning last summer ... and we paid in blood with nearly half our brigade at Salamandastron." Tolar turned to Vanessa. "Some acts of proving good faith are too genuine to dismiss, Abbess. Or is the legacy of Machus so quickly forgotten at Redwall?"

Vanessa pursed her lips. Machus, the former chief Sword of Urthblood's fox brigade, had performed a healing miracle at the Abbey the previous summer, using unknown surgical techniques to save the life of Cyrus after the young mouse had had his belly slashed open during a squabble between two of Urthblood's vermin soldiers. The news that Machus had fallen at Salamandastron had been met with great sadness by the Redwallers.

"Of course we do not forget the good deeds of Machus," Abbot Arlyn said in his typical calm, low tones. "He will always be a hero in our eyes. And we do not question your good faith, Tolar. It is, rather, Lord Urthblood's behavior that continues to frustrate us, and leave us with many questions. The fact that you went to the trouble of coming all the way to us through the winter woods shows that you might be more serious about addressing our concerns than he is."

"Thank you, Abbot."

Clewiston snorted. "Still doesn't change th' fact that we don't need any blinkin' brushtails t' help us know wot's goin' on in our own bally back yard."

"With all due respect, Colonel, how often do Redwall's hare and squirrel patrols range to the other side of the River Moss?"

"Not often at all," Mina conceded before anybeast else could answer the fox's question. Clewiston glowered at the squirrel Lady.

"I guess that brings us to the issue of where Foxguard is to be located," said Vanessa. "Are you planning to build it on the banks of the river in order to help meet the threat of Tratton's new underwater craft?"

"Yes and no," Tolar replied. "Foxguard is meant partly to counter the searat threat, although Lord Urthblood is depending more upon the otters of both Mossflower and his own Northland forces to perform this duty, along with the help of the logboat shrews. He did not want to place Foxguard too close to the water in case a large force of searats tried to capture it. Our fortress is to be built due east of Redwall, southeast of the quarry where we are now, off a small side creek that feeds into the main river. Some of Lord Urthblood's otters are there now, widening it into a proper canal and clearing it of all branches and obstructions so that when the time comes, a fleet of barges will be able to ferry the building stone from the quarry directly to the construction site."

"And this is to be a stronghold just for you foxes?" Vanessa eyed the blueprints before her.

"There will of course be room for other creatures to stay, even after Lord Urthblood finishes bolstering our brigade. He ultimately plans to have between fifty and a hundred foxes trained according to the swordplay disciplines founded by Machus. If he can find that many promising candidates, that is - sadly, foxes possessing the necessary skills and dedication are few and far between."

"I see. Well, let us take a closer look at these designs, shall we?" The Abbess and Abbot bent over the desk to study the renderings. Arlyn had to fiddle with his spectacles, but Vanessa was still young enough not to require reading glasses.

As she perused the plans, she mused, "Highwing was of the opinion you were mining enough stone to build another Redwall. Just how big will Foxguard be?"

Tolar laughed. "I'm afraid your Sparra chief was overstating the matter somewhat. Foxguard will be much smaller than this Abbey, I can assure you. In fact, we're hoping to have it mostly completed by the first of the summer."

"Really?" Vanessa raised an eyebrow. "That is an ambitious timetable."

"Yah," Clewiston put in, "wot's th' blinkin' hurry?"

"Lord Urthblood likes to finish his projects quickly so that he can move on to the next one."

"So we heard," Vanessa smirked, "considering that he didn't even remain at the quarry to oversee the completion of the work there."

"His Foremoles are perfectly capable of finishing this project," Tolar said. "In fact, they're almost totally in charge there, while Andrus and the rest of us are left standing around feeling useless most of the time."

"Excuse me, did you say ForeMOLES? How many does Lord Urthblood have there?"

"Two, Abbess. The moles are split into two crews - one for excavating the stone and the other for shaping it. All the necessary stone should be excavated by winter's end, at which time the digging crew will transfer to the building site and begin the work of construction. Since Lord Urthblood consulted closely with his Foremoles and the schematics are absolutely precise down to the last block and brick, we should be able to proceed without any trouble."

Arlyn jabbed a paw at the basement area of one drawing. "I say, is this a dungeon I see here?"

"Detention facilities, Abbot. Just some barred cells to hold any villainous creatures we may need to detain ... "

"I don't care for the sound of that," Vanessa said.

"Surely, Abbess, you must understand that such situations do arise. Why, you yourself were left no choice last summer but to imprison a hare and a weasel in your own cellars - "

"Against our better judgment," Vanessa cut in. "Especially in the case of Hanchett. We would rather not have denied either of those beasts their freedom."

"Yet the need for such action did arise. Foxguard is going to be a military garrison, not an Abbey. We will doubtlessly fight battles, and have to take prisoners. Or did you prefer that we leave none of our enemy alive, even if they are willing to surrender?"

"That seemed to be your bally strategy at Salamandastron," Clewiston growled.

Tolar met the Colonel's gaze without flinching. "If that were true, fully half the hares you have here at Redwall would not be alive today."

"Gentlebeasts, please!" Vanessa implored, sensing the tones of challenge in both warrior beasts' voices. "Let's keep this civil!"

Clewiston grunted and folded his paws over his chest.

Tolar reached out to take back his sheet of architectural drawings. "So, now that you have all had a chance to see for yourselves what it is that we're doing at the quarry ... "

Vanessa put her paw down firmly, pinning the blueprints to her desktop. "Just a moment. You journeyed all the way here to show this to us. There are some other beasts I'd like to see this."

For the first time since the meeting began, Tolar showed signs of uncertainty. "Um, I mean no disrespect, Abbess, but these designs are most precious, and I am sworn not to allow them out of my sight."

Vanessa's paw didn't budge. "Then they shall not leave your sight. We'll go someplace where we can all look at them together, hm?"


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Roxroy felt like he was an honored guest. And he found himself not minding the experience very much at all.

The young swordfox cadet sat before the blazing hearth down in Cavern Hole, his bushy tail draped around over his footpaws in squirrel fashion. He was now toasty through and through, cold paws and tail and ears and nose warmed nicely by the roaring fire. Shrimp stew, onion and leek pasties and hazel brandy mingled happily in his stomach, and the fuzzy effect of the drink made him feel as if he could drop off to sleep at any moment.

The attention being lavished upon him was also something to which the Northlander was quite unaccustomed. While Urthblood had made great strides in that troubled region as far as the historic strife and mistrust between vermin and woodlanders, Roxroy was new to the Badger Lord's campaign, having been in uniform for less than a season. To him, the idea of sharing meals and companionship with woodlanders was still strange and new. But to have been accepted with such an unflinching outpouring of hospitality as he was receiving now was almost more than the young fox could have imagined he would ever know.

Montybank and Alexander had barely left their guest's side since escorting him down to Cavern Hole and showing him to the fireplace. The otter Skipper and squirrel chief had cleared a space for the fox at the hearth, and personally served him from the trays being brought down from the kitchens. And as they sipped soup with Roxroy and chatted amiably with him, the two Abbey defenders were just as friendly as friendly could be.

"So, how'd y' get across th' river?" Monty asked the fox.

"Two of our own otters came with us," Roxroy replied. "They swam across and retrieved that raft of yours that you had moored there, and poled it back to our side while we waited. Then we all crossed on it."

"A pair o' waterdogs, huh? Pity they didn't slog it here to th' Abbey with you two brushtails. I allers enjoy gabbin' wi' me fellow streamwallopers."

"So where are they now?" Alex queried.

"Waiting on the western banks for our return. We're going to have to cross again to get back to the quarry, of course. I'm sure they've lit a nice fire to keep themselves warm. They weren't too cheerful about having to swim in that cold river, though."

"An' once y' cross back, will they return the raft to its proper 'n' rightful spot where they found it, so's we won't hafta swim 'cross th' river ourselves if'n we need it?"

"Um, I suppose so. I hadn't really thought about it ... "

"Guess you'll be eager to get back to all your fellows," Alex supposed. "So, just what do you do at the quarry yourself?"

"Me? You mean as far as the mining work? Mostly, my fellow cadets and I just help move some of the blocks sometimes, but that's as much for strength training and muscle-building as it is to actually help with the mining. Most of our days are taken up by swordplay drills."

"Is that training very hard?"

"I don't know about hard, Mr. Squirrel sir, but it's just about nonstop. It takes seasons of dedicated practice to become as good as Andrus, or Tolar, or any of the other senior members of our brigade. If I really apply myself, by this summer I might be a tenth as good as Andrus - that's why he's our Sword. But it would never occur to any of us cadets to slack off. It's a rare privilege and an honor to be accepted as a recruit for Lord Urthblood's fox brigade, and there's not a beast among us who doesn't realize it. Every one of us cadets are bound and determined to prove ourselves worthy, and the only way we'll ever do that is through practice, practice and more practice."

"What about actshul fightin'?" Monty asked. "When Urthblood's army was 'ere summer last, we talked with lotsa his troops, an' I got the impression that most o' their soldierin' experience was earned in battle. Not much opportunity fer leisurely trainin' an' fight school ... "

"Well, most of the troops Lord Urthblood took with him to Mossflower had been with him for seasons, joining his army during the early days of his campaigns, when the Northlands were almost completely wild and goodbeasts and vermin were constantly at each other's throats. Things are different up there these days, with peace prospering over much of the region, and there's not nearly as much fighting going on as there used to be. Why, my home fox colony now helps a nearby community of mice and moles farm their land. When I was born, fifteen seasons ago, we were still at war with each other! It's sometimes hard to believe how much things have changed just in my lifetime."

"How did the war between you and your neighbors end?" Alex was genuinely curious.

"Several of our colony's elders were killed resisting Lord Urthblood," said Roxroy. "There might've been bad blood between him and us after our defeat, if it hadn't been for Machus. He was already one of that badger's top captains, even back then, and he smoothed over the situation by convincing us that foxes had a place under Lord Urthblood, and could benefit by entering his service. That fox is a hero throughout the Northlands, and especially to us. Even though I was just a kit at the time, I knew I wanted to be just like him. A lot of us did. That's why there are so many new recruits for our brigade these days. A number of foxes from my own colony are in training with me."

"Helps havin' a familiar face or three around when yore in a strange land," Monty supposed. The otter tapped at the scabbard at Roxroy's waist; neither he nor Tolar had consented to surrendering their blades upon entering Redwall, and the Abbess had decided not to make an issue of it. "Do all o' yer trainees get yer own swords fine as this 'un?"

"Well, the elders who fought with Machus at Salamandastron get the best ones, naturally. Although, maybe I shouldn't say that, since nine of those original twenty were slain in that battle, and eight of those blades went to new recruits. Andrus now wears the sword Machus used to wield, since he's our new Sword. But Lord Urthblood had forged many reserve weapons even before he came down to Mossflower last summer, in anticipation of expanding his swordfox battalion, so there won't be any shortage of suitable blades for quite some time to come."

"How many of you are there now?" Alex asked casually.

"Thirty-three. Don't know if there'll be anymore coming down this season ... " Roxroy gave in to a wide yawn. "Hawwmmm! Oh, sorry, friends ... must be that wonderful wine. I do believe I could stretch out and fall asleep right here on the stone floor! But, yes, to answer your question, there are presently thirty-three of us. I don't know how many there may be eventually, but I'm sure Foxguard will be spacious enough to house us all."

"Foxguard?" Alex and Monty said as one.

"Yes. Our new fortress home. It'll be built due east of here, just on the other side of the River Moss. We'll be able help you Redwallers defend Mossflower from outside invaders. That's what we're mining all that stone for. I'm a little surprised you haven't asked me about that. Very courteous of you, since you must be dying to know."

"Um, would your superiors want you to be telling us all this?" Alex asked.

"I can't see why not, since Tolar is upstairs showing the plans for Foxguard to your Abbess as we speak. That's what we came here for, after all. I've glanced at the designs myself, but I'm a swordsbeast-in-training, not an architect, so I couldn't make too much out of them. But I'm sure it will be a splendid place - as fine a home as any fox has ever had!"

Roxroy gave another yawn, this one accompanied by a stretch of his arms high over his head. "Ooooo - ohh! Excuse me! Um, I don't mean to be rude, but is there any chance I might be able to have a bed for awhile? I'm very drowsy, and I did march through most of the night to get here, after all ... "

"Most of our dormitories aren't very warm, I'm afraid," Alex told him. "But you're more than welcome to nap here by the fireside, if you don't mind sleeping on the hearth."

"Yah," Monty added, "as ye may've noticed from some o' the snores you c'n hear around you, Cavern Hole becomes one big sleep-in durin' th' winter!"

"Would you like me to fetch you a sleeping mat?" Alex offered.

"Oh, no, thank you." Roxroy ran a paw over the hearthstone. "This floor is so smooth ... feels almost like silk under my pawpads. I'll be fine lying right against it. I just didn't want to make a spectacle of myself. But if everybeast else is doing it ... " The fox stretched out on his right side, his sword still strapped at his left hip, and rested his head on his forepaws, eyes closed. Within moments, he surrendered completely to his drowsiness and was sleeping like a babe.

Squirrel and otter regarded the slumbering swordsbeast. "Gee, 'ee looks almost innocent an' peaceable like that, " Monty whispered to Alex, "even in that black uniform an' sword. Almost mistake 'im fer a woodlander, couldn't ya?"

00000000000

If there were anybeasts at Redwall who could make heads or tails out of the designs for Foxguard that Tolar had brought with him, Lorr and Foremole were the ones.

After collecting the mole and bankvole from Cavern Hole (where the sight of Roxroy contentedly snoozing brought a disapproving frown from Tolar), the Abbot and Abbess led the way along the underground tunnel that came out near the door of Arlyn's gatehouse cottage. The leftover embers from the previous night's fire were restoked and fed with tinder, and very quickly a modest blaze crackled in Arlyn's personal fireplace.

Lady Mina and Colonel Clewiston came along, and Brother Geoff joined the entourage as well, since there would be more room in the cottage than there had been in Vanessa's study, and the historian had been disappointed about being excluded from the initial meeting. The Recorder mouse considered it his duty to be on paw to witness anything that might alter the course of events in Mossflower. And ever since Urthblood's arrival the summer before, such incidents seemed to be occurring with alarming frequency.

There weren't enough chairs in the cottage to seat everybeast, so they gathered around the low serving table where Tolar once again spread out his building plans. Arlyn lit extra lamps against the gloom of the day outside so that Lorr and Foremole could better examine the diagrams, then settled himself into a plush chair in one corner of the room, content to leave the matter to the experts for now.

Foremole and Lorr sat cross-legged on the floor, their snouts almost touching the parchment as they leaned over the table to scrutinize the plans for Foxguard.

"Burr hurr, yurr in moi loight, Master Lorr, zurr."

"Huh? Oh, right, sorry, sorry. Simply engrossed in this, yes indeed I am. Most marvelous, yes it is. I'd seen some of Lord Urthblood's sketches for the stairs to Warbeak Loft that he'd proposed, but this far surpasses those, far indeed, yes."

"But it's not anywhere near as big as Redwall?" Vanessa asked pointedly. "Is it?"

"Oh, no, marm, et doan't be nowhurrs near as loik our fair H'abbey," Foremole assured her. "Leastwoise, not if'n ee scales're roight."

"Yes, yes, I concur," Lorr agreed. "Although I do see some similarities. Both will have a protective perimeter wall, enclosing the main building and grounds and pool. In many ways, Foxguard will be like a scaled-down version of Redwall, with trees and gardens and a water supply to keep it self-sufficient if it should ever be placed under siege. Hmm, yes, yes. Very interesting circular design, I must say. See, how the fortress is arranged in a ring shape, with the outer wall forming a wider ring around it? And that of course leaves the yards between the fort and the outer wall shaped like a ring as well. Circles within circles within circles ... "

"Yes, I had noticed that earlier," Vanessa commented. "Quite a departure from the more squared-off shape of Redwall. Why is that?"

"More easily defensible," Tolar answered. "From any point along Foxguard's walltop, a beast will be afforded a very sweeping view of the surrounding forest, since the wall will be curving away behind you to either side."

Lorr pointed to an enlarged cross-section of the outer wall. "Yes, and the curved shape of the walltop would make it almost impossible for grappling hooks to find purchase ... and siege ladders would slide right off the curved surface ... all very ingenious ... but, I don't see any wallgates ... "

"The only way in and out of the compound will be a tunnel that runs under the wall ... here," Tolar tapped at one section of the parchment. "No wallgates to breach. An enemy will find it virtually impossible to gain entry to Foxguard."

"Yes, very nearly so, I should imagine," Lorr nodded. "Although a siege tower might work ... wouldn't need to be that tall, since this wall will be shorter than Redwall's ... "

"We have no intention of ever letting any such enemy device get anywhere near Foxguard," declared Tolar. "And any adversary who does manage to make it over our wall will find themselves facing a brigade of the finest swordsbeasts who've ever wielded a blade. I'd not favor their chances."

"Gee, you sounded just like Urthblood himself fer a moment there," the Colonel said to the fox.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Tolar responded pleasantly.

"Please do, Tolar," Mina advised. "My hare friend here often confuses his compliments and insults where Lord Urthblood is concerned." The squirrel Lady turned to Vanessa. "I do not deem we have seen or heard anything here to give us cause for alarm. What say you, Abbess?"

"I say we give Foremole and Lorr a little more time to examine the plans, My Lady. The diagrams are most detailed, after all."

Lorr pointed at a portion of the cellars. "Dungeons?"

"Detention facilities," Tolar half-confirmed. "A necessary evil, I'm afraid. I've already been over this with the Abbot and Abbess."

Foremole wrinkled his snout in distaste.

"Well," Vanessa prompted after giving the two designer beasts several more moments of silent and intent study, "does everything look as it should?"

"Wait, wait ... wait just a tick here." Lorr stood and walked completely around the table, studying the plans from every angle. Returning to his original orientation, the bankvole jabbed at a feature in the center of the cellar. "What in the name of numbers are these?"

"Yurr hurr," Foremole nodded, "oi'd noterced 'em too moiself."

Tolar leaned forward to see what Lorr was indicating. "They look like support columns to me," he said nonchalantly.

"Well, yes, that's putting it mildly, it is. Columns, braces, support arches ... it's an entire support structure intended, by the look of it, to bear a massive load. So what is it doing in the center of the fort?"

"Isn't that where you would expect them to be?" the fox asked.

"But ... there's nothing there!" Lorr traced his quivering paw over the parchment. "See, the fortress is shaped like a ring. Or a torus, to use the proper mathematical, geometrical term. There's a hole at its center, which I presume is meant to be an inner courtyard or drilling yard or some such thing. The one thing this design doesn't show is any kind of construction over this area. It should just be flat, empty ground. So why is there such an extensive system of weight reinforcement under it?"

Tolar shrugged. "Perhaps it's a design that redistributes the load-bearing of the entire fortress in toward the center?"

Lorr shook his head. "No, I just don't see it ... "

"Well, I'm afraid I'm no architect myself," Tolar said, echoing what Roxroy had told Alex and Monty earlier in Cavern Hole. "This question is beyond my expertise to answer. You would have to ask Lord Urthblood himself. Unfortunately, he is on his way back to the coastlands, having left many days ago."

"Pity he didn't see fit to share his plans for Foxguard with us when he was here earlier this winter," Vanessa said sourly. "He surely knew of it at that time. For all we know, he was carrying these very diagrams with him while he was staying at Redwall. Why, he could even have drawn them here at our Abbey!"

"Typical behavior from His Bloodiness, wot?" Clewiston opined.

"Abbess, I have done all I know how to put your mind at ease over our activities and intentions," Tolar implored. "Andrus dispatched me here forthwith, and made sure to give me the most comprehensive schematics of Foxguard that we had available to show you. We seek only to be good neighbors and staunch allies, and I do hope efforts in this regard are appreciated."

"I am sure they are," Mina said before any of the Redwallers could speak. "The unfortunate and tragic events of last summer, which pitted Badger Lord against Badger Lord for the first time in the annals of history, still leave us all shaken, and perhaps more suspicious than is good for us. Please forgive these good creatures if they are a little indignant over Lord Urthblood's decision, for whatever reason, not to tell them of Foxguard before now. I can understand their feelings, since His Lord did not see fit to share this information with me either, and by all rights he should have."

"There is nothing to forgive, when you put it like that," said Tolar. "Lack of communication is always frustrating, so I understand fully. No offense was taken, M'Lady ... Abbess."

Vanessa looked to Lorr and Foremole, but neither beast seemed to have uncovered any further discrepancies in the architectural designs.

"Of course, now that we know of your presence so close to us, you are welcome here at Redwall anytime," Vanessa said to the swordfox. "Our help and hospitality is yours for the asking. I would say that we will accept any of your sick and injured who are in need of healing, but I have seen for myself that your swordfoxes probably know more of such arts than Sister Aurelia and I put together. But as far as food, drink, and shelter, what we have is yours to share."

"Thank you, Abbess, that is most gracious. We are used to fending for ourselves, but once Foxguard is finished, it will be a haven open to any Redwaller who cares to visit. In fact, I would hope to see you there by early summer, if construction proceeds as planned."

"We shall see. But for now, you are our guest. I assume you will be spending at least the night with us?"

"I really should be getting back as soon as I can," Tolar said. "I have duties to perform, and Roxroy truly should not let his training go for more than a day. And Andrus will be eager to hear how it went with you."

"But you only just arrived. Do you mean to travel by night?"

"We travelled by night to get here, Abbess. Please do not concern yourself. I have had ample opportunity to rest. And Roxroy, by the look of him in Cavern Hole just now, has managed to find his share of rest too."

"That is a harsh pace you set for yourself, Tolar."

"I know something of harshness, Abbess. Some of the Northlands battles in which I've fought lasted days, with no opportunity to sleep and little chance for food and drink during that time. And at Salamandastron I was awake for three days straight, between the preparations and the battle itself, and then ministering to the wounded ... including injured hares of the Long Patrol." The swordfox shot a glance at Clewiston; the Colonel "harrumphed" and looked at the floor.

Vanessa shrugged. "Ah, well. It's your choice, of course. Just be aware that we do have spare beds, if you'd like to avail yourselves of them."

Tolar refolded the parchment and replaced it in his satchel. "Let me spend a little more time with Roxroy down in Cavern Hole in front of that fire. Then I'll decide whether we might spend the night."


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

As it turned out, Tolar ultimately decided to decline Vanessa's offer to spend the night at Redwall. The senior fox took another turn in front of the fireplace in Cavern Hole, sitting apart from the slumbering Roxroy so that he could engage in small talk with some of the Abbeybeasts without disturbing his young protege.

By midafternoon, however, Tolar deemed it was time to rouse Roxroy and be on their way back to the quarry. Accepting only the smallest token offering of travel provisions from the Abbess and Friar Hugh, the two foxes profusely thanked Vanessa for the hospitality they'd been shown, and they were soon out the east wallgate and tramping their way back toward the River Moss, steering their steps around any scattered patches of snow that they could easily avoid and tromping straight through the rest.

The swordfox duo were quickly lost to sight among the trees, leafless though they were.

Most of the Abbey leaders had gathered on the walltop to see them off. "Certainly in a hurry to get back to their own kind, wot?" Clewiston observed dryly.

"I'd think you'd be happy about that, Colonel," Mina said to him with equal dryness.

"All in all, I think that went quite well," said Arlyn. "Tolar was most gracious with the majority of points we raised, and we now have many answers that we didn't have this morning."

"Along with a few new questions," Vanessa added. "Such as why an empty courtyard needs such a heavily-reinforced foundation under it."

"Pity Tolar didn't bring along one of their Foremoles," Geoff lamented. "I'm sure they would have had no problem understanding those plans and explaining them to us. But of course they were too busy and couldn't be spared for a trip to Redwall ... "

"Most convenient, that," Clewiston snorted.

"Now, Colonel," Montybank said, "it makes sense. Moles ain't as fast on their feet as foxes, so it would've slowed up those two brushtails shore 'nuff. An' if they're too busy at th' quarry ... "

"For now I'll be content to let Lorr and our own Foremole puzzle over those plans," said Vanessa. "Perhaps given time to ponder what they saw, an explanation will occur to them. Although I'm sure they would both have dearly loved to have held onto those diagrams for further study. It's never as easy working from memory."

"At least that young fox Roxroy seemed pretty genuine," Alexander told his fellow Redwallers. "I never would have guessed he was only fifteen seasons old - that makes him about the same age, in fox terms, as our Cyril. The uniform sure made him look more mature."

"To become skilled enough to deserve a place in Lord Urthblood's swordfox brigade, formal training must begin at an early age," Mina stated. "I'd be surprised if Roxroy is the youngest cadet Andrus has."

"Well, he'd clearly never seen anything like our Abbey," Alex went on. "I don't know if Tolar was keeping anything from us, but I don't think Roxroy could have deceived us if he'd wanted to. He's just too young and inexperienced. And he clearly doesn't think there's anything improper going on with Foxguard. If he'd felt otherwise, Monty and I would have been able to tell."

"Aye, that's true 'nuff," Monty nodded. "That lad t'was about as open-faced as any woodlander his age t'would be. Seemed right proud 'bout this fine new home he 'n' his fellow foxes're gettin'."

"And they'll have that home by summer's eve, if Tolar's optimistic forecast holds true," said Vanessa. "I can't help but wonder what our future relationship with Foxguard will hold ... "

Clewiston cocked an ear. "Wot, you're gonna let those redfurred fleabags go ahead an' build their rummy fortress, dungeons an' all?"

"I'm no happier than anybeast here about those 'detention cells' that were revealed in those plans, Colonel," Vanessa assured the veteran hare. "But how would you propose we go about stopping them, even if I agreed that such a course of action would be appropriate?"

"Why, just send us Long Patrol over there, with mebbe a few o' Alex's squirrels an' Monty's otters fer support. We'd break up their party an' move 'em along nice 'n' neat, by my bobtail we would."

"And if they resisted, many could die." The Abbess shook her head. "I'm sorry, Colonel. I know you're totally dedicated to the protection of Redwall, but the Long Patrol has recently fought a war that cost you over half its members, and I cannot condone anything which might provoke further loss of life. Besides, what right do we have to tell them they cannot build a home for themselves here in Mossflower?"

"The right to defend ourselves, that's wot right!" Clewiston sputtered. "Surely you don't believe they won't end up being a threat to us, th' way they're beefin' up their numbers?"

"Colonel," Vanessa replied, "they are swordsbeasts, and healers, not archers, or slingbeasts, or javelineers. Even if Urthblood were to build his swordfox brigade up to a hundred, I can't see them posing any direct threat to this Abbey."

Clewiston stubbornly crossed his paws over his chest. "You might not say that, Abbess, if you'd seen 'em in action at Salamandastron. Even half a hundred of those sword demons might be enough t' conquer Redwall."

"Except that they wouldn't," Mina cut in. "Their mission is to help maintain peace and order in Mossflower, not to attack the only ally they have in that goal."

"The plain truth," said Vanessa, "is that, while Redwall has always helped defend Mossflower from oppressors, we do not own these woods, any more than its various creatures own us. If Urthblood and Andrus see fit to build a fortress somewhere off on the other side of the River Moss, there is very little we can do about it. At least, not without going to great lengths to alienate potential allies, and running the risk of causing ourselves far more trouble than we bargained for."

"Sensible words, Abbess," Mina commended her.

Clewiston remained steadfast. "Yah, well, I'm thinkin' a little trouble now might just save us a lot more later on ... "

"Vanessa," said Arlyn, "do you suppose we ought to send out some of the Sparra to see our departed guests back to the quarry?"

The Abbess glanced up at the iron-tinted sky; the dismal mantle of low clouds had not released its grip on the skies of Mossflower for even a fleeting moment that day.

"I don't see any need, Arlyn. It will be full dark long before Tolar and Roxroy reach the river, and sparrows can't see or fly at night very well. Perhaps in the morning they can fly out and see whether those foxes have made it back across the river all right ... "

"Too bad there aren't any bally owls livin' at Redwall," Clewiston grumbled.

00000000000

Day faded to night and thence back to day once more. The excitement caused by the foxes' visit and the news of Foxguard kept many of the Abbeybeasts chatting well into the night, but eventually all but the most keyed-up speculators went up to their bedrooms or snuggled down onto their sleeping mats in Cavern Hole, tired eyes closing as they drifted off to blissfully dream their way through another winter's night.

In the morning, Vanessa had Cyril and Cyrus summon Highwing again to fly out and check on the foxes' progress. The Sparra chief returned very shortly, while Vanessa and a few others waited for him on the walltop beneath the steely gloom of the cold gray morning.

"No sign of them, Abbess," Highwing reported. "I even flew over to the other side of the river. They must have travelled through the night, and gotten back to the quarry by now."

"Not like they had t' do it entirely in the dark," Colonel Clewiston said. "That quarry was lit up just as bright last night as on th' two previous. Makes a nice navigatin' beacon ... "

"Well, we'll assume they made it back safely," said Vanessa.

"A safe assumption," Highwing nodded, "considering that our raft is now moored on the opposite bank."

"Not very courteous of them, was it?" Arlyn stroked his whiskers. "Now we'll have to send some of our otters if we want to fetch it back ... "

"Pretty much says t' me they don't want us droppin' in on 'em," the Colonel remarked. "Couldn't make it much clearer if they tried, wot? So much for th' welcome mat that devious sack o' fur extended us yesterday - it's been pulled back in pretty quick, an' no mistake!"

"Tolar said we'd be welcome at Foxguard, once it was completed," Mina reminded Clewiston. "The quarry is an active work site, and they're keeping to a very tight schedule. It's only logical that they wouldn't want any further interruptions or delays."

"Still, it is a rather mixed signal they're sending us," Vanessa admitted. "If they didn't want us visiting them while they're working at the quarry, Tolar could have simply told us as much."

"They're foxes," Clewiston stated flatly. "Can't jolly well expect 'em t' act like anything else, wot? This just proves it."

"Abbess, I wouldn't read too much into this," Mina implored.

"It does provide some food for thought," said Vanessa, turning from the battlements to the wall stairs. "But now that winter has returned in full, I intend to retire to the warm indoors, and stay there until the weather warms up again. If Urthblood's forces want to work the quarry through the cold of winter, that's their affair. And I very much doubt we'd have any need of our raft before springtime anyway. But when we eventually do send out some otters to retrieve it, I think I'll have them drop by the quarry to invite Andrus to our spring Nameday celebration ... and if Monty has a chance to poke his nose into things there while he's extending our festive invitation to our new neighbors, well, it's only natural otter curiosity, hm?"

"Already thinking of Nameday, Vanessa?" Arlyn said as he clomped down the wallsteps behind her. "Any ideas yet what our Winter of the White Stoat will give way to?"

"Gracious no!" Vanessa threw up her paws. "Winter's only half over, Arlyn. No need to rush things. We'll see what name this coming spring deserves when it gets here. Everything in its own time ... "

"How's about th' bally Spring of th' Lyin' Brushtails?" Clewiston proposed, bringing up the rear.

Mina scowled, and even Vanessa threw an acerbic glance over her shoulder toward the Long Patrol commander. "Now, Colonel. I know the past day's events loom large in our minds now, and I've already said we shall keep an eye on that situation. But one thing about Redwall is that Mossflower Woods around us is constantly changing. Who knows what might come up in the next half season that could make us all but forget about the quarry and Foxguard? We can only wait and see ... "

00000000000

Even as Highwing was making his reconnaissance flight over the River Moss, Tolar and Roxroy were descending into the underground command center at the quarry.

Tolar quickly passed Roxroy off to Sappakit, one of the other elder swordfoxes, and retreated from the clanking, clinking, hammering din of the main mine into the relative calm of Andrus's private chamber.

The Sword gazed at his trusted underling with somber expectation as Tolar passed the blueprint satchel to Andrus. "Well, how did it go?"

Tolar grimaced. "Fine, until the Abbess got it into her head to show those to her Foremole and some meddlesome vole who knows his way around a schematic diagram."

"And?"

"They were very curious as to why we needed such massive support columns for an empty courtyard."

"Aha. How curious?"

"I think we should expect more visits this winter, sir."

"Did you leave their boat on our side of the river, as instructed?"

Tolar nodded. "But that won't stop 'em. Those Redwallers are a determined bunch, and they've got plenty of otters of their own. Not to mention birds, and squirrels, and those hares. Even Lady Mina seemed put out that she was not consulted about this. You shouldn't have given me plans to show them that included the basement ... "

"They would have to realize any such structure would naturally have cellars," Andrus countered. "If we'd shown them plans without any basement, they'd wonder what we were hiding."

"And now they are asking questions that are not so easily answered. If they come here and get one of our Foremoles alone - "

"We'll just have to make sure that doesn't happen," Andrus cut Tolar off sharply. "If the Redwallers had any idea what we truly intend to build, they would try to stop us. I am sure of it."

"Even though it is for the good of all Mossflower? Perhaps we should just tell them."

"No. We must not. Redwall has stood for so many generations as the unchallenged stronghold of Mossflower, they would not sit still for this competition. Foxguard will be a blow to their pride - and to their identity - that they will not be able to tolerate."

"They'll find out about it soon enough, once construction begins ... "

"But by then it will be too late for them to do anything about it. All the stone and mortar will be on site, along with the moles to assemble them. Our triumph will rise before their very eyes, at a pace that will leave them immobile with astonishment. Then, and only then, may they be allowed to see the true shape and scope of Foxguard."

"As you say, sir." Tolar nodded once, then withdrew from the Sword's quarters, firmly closing the heavy oak door behind him.

Andrus sank into a crude cushioned chair, idly pawing the satchel in his grasp. The chair, like all the furniture in the quarry, like even the door that separated him from the worst of the mining racket that went on day and night, was a hastily-fashioned affair, thrown together to provide the minimum practical comfort and nothing more. The quarry was just a temporary dwelling for them, after all; soon enough they would be trading this squalor for the permanent splendor of their new home.

Or at least the foxes would. Once Foxguard was completed, the mole corps would undoubtedly move on to the next project Lord Urthblood had lined up for them.

"Redwall ... " he murmured softly, that single word losing itself in the muffled work noises penetrating his closed door. "I am your friend, whether you realize it or not. But on this matter you must not oppose me. You must not."


End file.
